As predicted we got plastered with a generous coating of ice which makes for a pretty fairyland when the sun is out but was a biatch at 6AM when I had to be at work. Without deicer, I improvised by using room temp water and vinegar and managed after 30 minutes to get into the passenger side where I could crawl over the console and behind the wheel. I lost the driver's side door handle long ago during another ice storm. Since school was out and it was early, there wasn't much traffic and I flat straddled both lanes crossing the bridges in Southtown while going no more than 25 mph on my skittish used tires. I did manage not to fall in the unsalted parking lot which is more than our CEO can say. I wish I had been there to see it!
When I woke up, even with four dogs it was a little nippy and as I suspected the propane had run out during the night. When I called propane guy he said he he had been sitting there waiting on a load for a week while lord knows who doled it out to small distributors like him. I was 8th in line stating complete outage with 70 or 80 orders unfilled. I was pretty much resigned to dealing with it like we have the past two winters when lo and behold I got a call from Shannah saying they were at the tank giving us gas to heat with. I expected 4.60/gallon and it was a bunch less so there you go...Big Ernie is good even when Murphy's on a roll.
I called mama about a heater since we were looking at an extended outage and she shared with me that she almost called me last night to tell me to "be careful out there" with that ice and whatnot. She talked herself out of it by telling herself that I'm almost 60 years old and don't need her advice because I can probably figure it out. Hey...it's the thought that counts.
I've watched as the media takes over and tells everybody how Phil Seymour Hoffman died with a needle in his arm in the midst of Ace bags of heroin. According to what I read his was a relatively recent relapse after 23 years of sobriety from opiates that started with a snort. Lots of judgement gets passed around in these cases by the "just say no" people but most of them don't know a step from a hole in the ground. My suspicion is that he became consumed with his fame of late and did what opiate addicts do...get messed up to relieve the stress and pain of not being enough. It sucks, but it's what happens sometimes.
I get to see everybody and their mama at the sawmill and I was pleasantly surprised to spend time with one of BG's elementary school teachers. I could see her struggling for a name and then it all came together. When we first divorced BG was in the 5th grade and we went together to parent teacher conference to tell her what was up. This angel of a woman actually cried over what was happening to our family. You don't see that much these days.