At 3am Thursday morning, the wind picked up and we listened to radio warnings one after another as the storm approached the DFW metroplex area. Like a wall as wide as the thirty miles between Dallas and Fort Worth, the storm advanced from the west with 75 mph winds and tornadoes that would tear down trees, rip roofs, and take down power lines especially in North Richland Hills, and Allen.
We did not even hear the tree in the front yard crack in half in the high wind and lashing rain.
We have eleven huge oaks on our lot, and the three that grow close together like a trio are so tall that their branches give shade to our street. One of the three lost a top branch in a storm last week, and Bob had to lasso it to bring it down and chop it up. A woodpecker couple still established a home in the top of what is left of that one. We saw them busily pushing sawdust out of their hollowed out nest yesterday. The second of the trio cracked in half in the storm and the top lay in a precarious forty-five degree angle like southern belle with her huge skirt of branches and leaves brushing the ground. Bob pulled it down and sawed it into manageable logs. Clear duct tape is not as effective as twig binding as the slate gray duct tape.
We found an old, abandoned woodpecker hollowed out nest in the downed trunk. Found above the crack, I am not so sure the woodpecker contributed to the weakening of the tree.
A few dead branches adorn the top of the third remaining trio member. I wonder when it comes down. And are the three metaphors or analogous to our three sons?? One sports a family, one broke off as a surprise and one left at home...for a few more weeks...until the next storm/wind/orders.
Yesterday at 10am I heard a transformer boom, and then silence as we lost power until 4pm. My neighbors one street over had been without power since the 3am storm, and its sorta embarrassing when your husband works for the power company and you have power and neighbors do not. It looks like we get special privileges or something.
NO power means no internet, no blogging, no blog reading, no NASA coverage, no C-span, no AC, no dishwasher, no laundry washing nor drying.
No power means that sweating doing yard work appreciates a breeze to cool the sweaty brow but not liking the biting horseflies that draw blood despite OFF bug spray.
No power means folding clothes, and washing dishes, and knitting. No power means transferring perishables into a cooler with ice just in case the outage lasts for days. No power means I was so glad I did not stock the frig nor freezer.
No power means the Mystic Monk whole beans could not be ground. But, we tried them this morning, and it tastes great. Thanks, Anchoress. Hope you get the credit as I ordered through your site.
No power means a day of solitude...but not having a clue how to DO solitude. I bet it takes practice. No power means the lights do not work no matter how many times you forget and flip that switch in the dark garage (nor the garage door---and the car trapped inside) but I did have the power to think, and listen, and talk on the phone. And I had the power to be thankful for coolish spring days not the hell that is August in Texas. Thank You, Lord, for the power of Thankfulness.