Part Two of the Great April Nor’Easter of Ought Seven seems to consist of wild winds and heavy rain, causing flooded streets and fallen limbs and disrupted services of one kind and another.
We are trapped on our dead end street, at least as far as car use is concerned. A large, elderly tree broke in half, pulling down the various lines routed to the brown house two doors down from us. I’m not sure how we are lucky enough to still have power; perhaps because we are not on the side of the street where the main line runs, but simply receive the offshoots. The good news, I suppose, is that the tree fell against the tree next to it, and not into the road, although certainly parts of it did.
When it was time to take Snowman to meet his father and catch the bus to Beantown Airport, bound for his audition at Land o’ Lakes Arts Academy, I hesitated to drive off our street. But our heroic DogWalker arrived and pointed out that her van had fit fine under the lines. She then went out and picked up some of the branches to make a clearer path for me. I love our heroic DogWalker. She also brought eye witness reports of branches and power lines down in the neighborhood and a story of a pine tree rocking on its base, roots become increasingly exposed. That’s one street over.
The other good news: the city didn’t get around to taping off our street until after I returned and the DogWalker moved along with her van.
I have a Mozilla add-on for weather, and it is popping up no fewer than nine special warnings, watches and statements in a little white box: flooding on the coast as well as flooding of rivers and streams is expected. I believe we’ll be fine right here. If we should lose power, we have dry fire wood and plenty of bread and dry cereal. And it’s perfectly possible to get off our street on foot, once the storm is over, if we should lose power and need to head to the nearby Sevendy-Leven to replace milk or juice.
Sam is sleeping on the run near the front door, his usual spot, but Molly has taken cover in her "storm den" under the dining room table. The cats are nestled in their usual spots. The Princess and I are at our computers, but later we have plans to watch the Colin Firth "Pride and Prejudice." (Pure Luck gave it to me as a Valentine.) If the power goes off, there is always the piano, and that would surely be a scene out of Jane Austen.
Just since I began this post, I’ve heard no fewer than 10 sirens (fire, police, ambulance). I hope it’s quieter where you are.