The Apocalypse

There is something hugely wrong with these photos.

Pumpkins+Snow=Hell.

Because that means it is still Fall. And Fall means that there are still leaves on trees. And leaves are capable of causing utter destruction.

Remember this kids. It will help you throughout life.

Saturday morning we looked out the window to see snow. It was unsightly.

I layered up Ryder and Linley in their costumes and took them downtown to trick-or-treat. Within 40 minutes we were soaked, frozen, and and content with our candy quantity. We hurried home to thaw.

We lost power at 3pm. In an exercise of intelligence, we hurried over to the mall to stay warm, then excitedly sat down at the Cheesecake Factory to fill our tummies. Five minutes later the electricity went out there as well, and we were all asked to leave. And so, we returned. To our dark, cold home.

We ate macaroni and cheese by candlelight that night. Because romance is never lost on us.

We awoke the next morning to a 55 degree home. We bundled up and sipped hot cocoa. But to no avail. Our toes would not warm.

We escaped to a friends house that had lost power Sunday morning, and thus, had an elevated level of warmth within their walls. They fed us, entertained us, and kept us sane. Which, in case you are curious, is the best kind of friends to have.

Allen then drove down to Trenton to purchase the last generator to be found within a 2 hour radius. I have true genuine love for that machine.

We barricaded off the downstairs, hooked up the space heaters, and settled in for the next three days. We ate lots of candy, played lots of rock band (totally imperative use of the generator), and desperately searched for patience.

Luckily our hot water heater was still operating normally. The scalding showers were the highlight of every day.

Getting around required dodging and detours, but we did our best to escape to electricity daily. We sought out anywhere that would fill our bellies, expel our energy, and heat our hands; a change of scene was most necessary after crowded hours cuddled close.

After 75 hours of hunkering down, heat and happiness was restored to the Zimmerman household. It was a feeling of inexplicable joy. Akin to birthing a baby, or marrying the boy of dreams.

We are going on day 3 of no school. And tomorrow has been cancelled as well. Halloween was postponed until Friday.

Life seems to be stuck on pause, and each one of us is begging to just fast forward.

It is impossible to adequately capture the shockingly widespread destruction.
This was the largest limb that fell on our property. Luckily it's only victim was a shingle.

The snow was gone after a few days. The damage will take weeks to repair. And I may never recover. At the very least, I will never spend a night outdoors.

I have learned one important lesson from this: natural disasters are best served in the summer.

Stepping aside from the trauma out my window, November remains my favorite month of the year. The month of gratitude. And we are fully breathing it in.