Winter Storm Draco (Malfoy)

UPDATE: After sitting around IN HIS CAR (they had to leave the hotel at 11am and had no where to go) waiting to be told where to go, finally at about 3pm, the company for which hubs works told the guys they were going to go to Rockford, IL.  After seeing that Rockford had all of 9K people out of power, hubs said "No way" and came home.  He was thankful he chose to do so since he found out that the crews who did go to Rockford, drove all the way down there and then turned around and came back because there was no work for them to do.

We are keeping abreast of the outages caused by the latest winter storm, but since there is a hockey tournament going on this week, I don't believe hubs would be very happy to go work storm and miss hockey. Sometimes, his priorities are a little skewed. But, since Tbone is playing in above-mentioned tournament, I believe that his heart is in the right place this time.


Winter Storm Draco (now we're naming winter storms? Really people? Is this so that we can hype them up more? Like people won't pay attention to blizzard warnings but if you NAME the blizzard people will wake up and say "Oh really? A named blizzard? We'd better prepare!" If it doesn't work for hurricanes - think "Sandy" or "Irene" - how well will it work for blizzards?!) is gearing up to wreck havoc like the Harry Potter-an Malfoy after which it's named, spreading snow from the Rockies to New England just in time for the Christmas travel season.  Technically, where I live, we're only supposed to get about an inch of snow overnight and into tomorrow, with some high winds kicked in to make the air feel at least ten degrees colder than it really is just for fun.  However, to the south and then east of us, they're expecting anywhere between six to twelve inches of snow mixed with rain, ice and more high winds, possibly the perfect combination for power outages to occur over several states.  Since Winter Storm Draco Malfoy is looking to be as ugly as its namesake, hubs has been put on "stand-by," which means that he and other High Voltage Linemen get to hang out in a hotel, far away from home, and wait to see what this nasty storm is going to bring.  This is the truly boring part of his job: seemingly endless hours spent sitting in a hotel room, only broken up by the random excursion out to find an open restaurant for something to eat.  Once the storm has passed through, they'll be told where (if there's a need) they'll be heading to restore power.

Generally, we're pretty excited about storms.  Not only does he get a chance to do something at which he is tremendously skilled and enjoys, that is, building power lines after they've been knocked down due to bad weather, he also likes being a part of the process of giving people who have lived without power for a time their electricity back.  But it also means a lot of overtime, so there's a financial incentive to chase storms as well as the "helping others" aspect of his job.  (Don't get him started on how linemen are the most powerful people in the country - that is a {mainly one-sided} conversation that can go on for hours.)  But Winter Storm Draco is seriously worrisome due to the timing: we're five days away from Christmas.

Hubs has missed at least the last three Independence Day celebrations due to storms that pop up the week before the 4th of July.  Because of Hurricane Sandy, we thought he'd miss Thanksgiving, but he came home the weekend prior, just in time to help me put up our Griswoldesque Christmas lights and enjoy the butter-laden turkey and other treats I prepared for the day.  He's missed birthdays, the first day of school, Valentine's day, swim meets and hockey games either because he was working out of town and couldn't come home or because of random storms that pop up at just the right time for him to miss those special days or events.  But, until (possibly) this year, he's always been home for Christmas.

He called me late this afternoon, after I had spent the day making crack-corn and rosettes (my house smells like a bad version of a White Castle burger joint right now due to the oil required for the rosettes - yummy) for the kids' teachers' and coaches' gifts, to let me know that he was being put on stand-by.  Since he's been working about 100 miles (one way) from home lately, and had no extra clothes (or extra long underwear or his boot dryer) with him, I offered to drive his needed supplies to him.  Thankfully, he said he could meet me halfway, which was a wonderful thing since Sparkles and Buttercup had to make the trip with me and almost four hours straight in the car would have been a little much for both of them.  So, after stuffing his always-packed "storm luggage" with extra long underwear and a brand new pack of thermal socks and grabbing a gallon-sized Ziploc baggie full of caramel-covered Old Dutch Puffcorn ("crack corn" - once you start, you can't stop) for him, I loaded everything and the girlies into Izzy the Isuzu and drove the 60 or so curving through fields and forests miles to meet him ( on the way, we saw two live deer on the side of the road and a small herd of reindeer, too).  He was happy for the suitcase and to see us before he had to head back South to wait to see what Draco is going to bring, but he was also quite concerned that if the storm goes all evil like Draco Malfoy that he'll miss out on his favorite part of Christmas: watching the kids open their presents from Santa on Christmas morning and stuffing their stockings with goodies while they sleep on Christmas Eve.  (I know I won't possibly be able to do it as quietly as he does, so this could also mean that this Christmas the girls will finally figure out that Santa doesn't actually do all that.)  As we talked about this possibility, we also discussed the flip-side: that if there are people who are without power, he gets to show the ultimate Christmas spirit and give them the best Christmas present ever by restoring their electricity, especially during a time when the temperatures will be seriously cold and they'll need heat, not to mention the power to run all their Christmas lights (you know, priorities).

So, I'm asking you, if you are affected by power outages caused by Winter Storm Draco Malfoy, before you go all Dick Cheney and start screaming after 12 hours of no electricity how slowly the power companies are restoring power (like the Easterners did after Hurricanes Irene and Sandy), please remember that while you don't have power, at least you (more than likely) have your family with you, unlike the linemen who are out in the cold and the wind, working as hard and as quickly as possible to get your electricity restored (and if you could also remember that they also have families who wish you had your electricity so their well-loved linemen could be home enjoying Christmas with them, that'd be an added bonus) so they can get home to their own families for the Holidays.

I'm praying that Winter Storm Draco is just a regular ol' blizzard that dumps some snow and blows said snow around without knocking anyone's power out this Christmas.

Fun with the Neighbors Part II

As mentioned in my previous post, "Fun with the Neighbors Part I", my next-door neighbors drive me a little crazy.  The only upside of this situation is that I'm pretty sure we drive them equally crazy, which goes to show that there really is justice in the universe.

With the great weather this fall, the farmers across the road from our neighborhood were able to get their crops in quite early, leaving the fields crowded with Canada geese gleaning the dropped corn kernels all day.  Once goose hunting season started, we were awakened early on Fri-Sun mornings by hunting sounds - gunfire and geese honking as hunters took advantage of the easy access to thousands of birds.  Growing up around guns and having many friends who hunt, the only feeling I had about the gunshots I heard was irritation from the fact that I was being woken up far earlier than I wanted to be on weekends.  This sentiment was shared by my neighbor to the south - he too, did not appreciate the 5am gunfire - and, in past years, went so far as to call the police on the hunters.  Legally, they are allowed to hunt on the land across the road since it is privately owned, and birdshot does not travel far enough to threaten any residences, so his  call was to complain about his peace being disturbed (he also admitted to me that he was a bit jealous because he wasn't hunting with the hunters which added to his irritation when making the complaint to the police).

My neighbors to the north, however, being from California, decided instead to make a complaint to our city, citing that the hunting was a danger to residents in nearby neighborhoods and going so far as to say that our entire neighborhood was also worried about the dangers of hunting in the fields across the road from our homes.  Which is to say that the residents of the neighborhood with whom my neighbor speaks on a regular basis, may or may not have an issue with the hunting.  She did not ask me my opinion; if she had, I would have happily told her what I thought.  (I'm guessing that's why she never asked me.)  Instead, I only learned of her complaint when I was approached by a reporter for our local city newspaper who happened to see my daughter and I outside our house after she had been interviewing next door neighbor about her complaint.

At first I thought the reporter was stopping by to talk to my fantastically talented daughter about the fact that she had just participated in Early National Signing Day and had rocked at the State Championship Swim Meet the prior weekend.  My disappointment was short-lived, however, when I learned the actual reason for the reporter's appearance in my neighborhood.  (I have to admit that she may have thought I was nuts for the cackling laughter and snorting that I couldn't hold back when she told me her reason for being there.)  She asked me if the neighbor had ever talked to me about the hunting, mentioning that my neighbor had claimed knowledge that the entire neighborhood was concerned.  She asked me if I would be willing to go on the record how I felt about the goose hunting, and once I stopped snickering, I told her that while I didn't appreciate being woken early in the a.m., it was private land, so it didn't matter what I thought - they were legal to do it.  I then asked her: "Did she tell you they moved here from California last year?  Did you ask her for her views on the 2nd Amendment? Did you mention to her that a) that land is being developed into a subdivision early next year and hunting will no longer be allowed and b) that she has more chance of getting hit by a stray bullet in downtown (enter big city name of your choice here) than by birdshot in her backyard, especially when it is protected by her 6' privacy fence?" I also told her that I wished that they would allow more hunting - bow, not gun, mind you - within city limits as the night before I had followed two deer who were out for their evening constitutional on a residential street two blocks to the north of my own neighborhood, and that I was tired of the coyotes barking nearby every night and the raccoon that loved to harass my dogs.  (By the way, my suburb has a population of 50k+ and while we still have woods and farmlands nearby, we are by no means truly "rural" in nature.)

While I was chatting it up with the reporter, I noticed my neighbor in her car, high-tailing it out of her driveway while giving me the ol' stink-eye.  It was about that time that the reporter asked if I thought any of our other neighbors would be willing to share their views on the issue, to which I responded "Yes!" and helpfully pointing out which neighbors were hunters and/or who actually talked to my neighbor on a regular basis.  The last I saw of the reporter, she was being welcomed into the house across the street, home of one of the many hunters who has resided here for more than 20 years.

The next day, hubby and I took advantage of the unseasonably warm temperatures (mid 60s on Thanksgiving Day Eve?! No Way!) to "Griswold" our house: dragging out of our attic all the working lights, candy-canes, Santa, Sleigh, Reindeer, etc. and installing them on our house.  (It really is a good thing we have no HOA here or we'd be in severe violation of "single-color"/"clear/white light only" rules, etc.)  We love the Christmas Season and sharing Christmas cheer with our neighbors by having the largest light display possible, which is celebrated with the "Annual Lighting Ceremony" on Thanksgiving night, modeled after the Griswolds of "Christmas Vacation," complete with "drum rolls" produced by whomever is still at our house after dark on Thanksgiving Day and the singing of the Star Spangled Banner by my BFF, after which every one usually hurries back inside, complaining of the cold and asking why we insisted on having them outside to witness the turning on of our glorious lights.

The fact that our neighbors have yet to put a single light on their house last season or so far this season only contributes to our glee regarding our over-the-top display - if we can be annoying them in the process, it truly does make the work it took to create the display all the more worth it.

Black Friday morning found BFF and I up and at Menards at 5am, then on to Mills Fleet Farm at 6am (yes, we really are geeks! But the deals at Menards were really awesome.) which was where I found the final piece to this year's Christmas Light Display: A Six Foot Inflatable Snowman Hunter, complete in camo and wielding a shotgun! I snatched up the box and took it home with me, intent upon putting it in the front yard, six inches from the lot line between the neighbors' home and our's. Hubby even seemed excited with the prospect of tweaking the neighbors, laughing over the irony that we aren't even hunters!

Alas, it was not to be: our light display this year is too big this year for the crappily wired electrical system of my house as it is, and the addition of my wonderful Camo-Clad Snowman would require that we not only not run the microwave after dark, but also be relegated back to using candles for light (and while that seems like fun for a while, the thought of the 16, 8 and 6 year old children playing "Pioneers" while wandering around with lit candles scares the crap out of me) if we wanted to keep from blowing circuit breakers every 30 seconds.  So unfortunately, I had to take the Snowman back to Fleet Farm. (I promise though, next year, I will give up the candy-canes and even the sleigh and reindeer if I can have Mr. Snowman Hunter in my yard.)

~~ Still waiting to see an actual article printed about the goose hunting; wondering if there will actually be one published.  Also fighting the urge to buy a Christmas wreath for the neighbors & put on their front step since their unbedecked house looks very bare and sad next to our Griswold majestic wonderland.  There's two things stopping me: 1) Hubby finding out and yelling at me for wasting money on our unappreciative neighbors and 2) being caught putting the wreath on their front step (they keep their blinds closed all day, so the chances of being detected are slim, but I'm still paranoid).

Fun with the Neighbors Part I

We have lived here for four years.  For the most part, our neighborhood is pretty quiet, other than lots of kids tearing around, the occasional doggy escape from fenced-in yards, random ferrets or cats found hiding under our deck, fireworks shot off after 10pm on non-4th of July days, etc.  But generally, the neighbors, while friendly, haven't been the type of people to insist upon neighborhood BBQs or block parties, a fact for which most of us have been grateful.  Until last year when new people moved into the house to our north.  They came from the exotic land of California: the wife is an Associate Professor of Social Work at two of the most liberal schools in the metro, the husband is a card-dealer at one of the local casinos/card-rooms.  Together they have two children, a son (no one has ever seen/met) in college and a 6 year old daughter (who is apparently deathly allergic to dogs and to kids who refuse to allow her to boss them around). A week or two after they moved in, a good friend of mine "@SHockeyMama2" (follow her on Twitter!), stopped by with her very well-behaved and leashed dog, to hang out and have a beer on my deck with me.  While I went inside for something, @SHockeyMama2 took her dog into my backyard (still on his leash) to let him wander around.  She was greeted by my neighbor (who may have been on my property at the time) with "Don't you let your dog poop in MY YARD!"  That, my friends, was one of his first mistakes.  First of all, the dog was on a leash.  Second of all, no one speaks like that to @SHockeyMama2 and gets away with it. Third of all, that dog was like a child to her, and like her kids, NO ONE talks smack (and that was smack talk) to her about her dog or her kids without retribution.  From that moment on, the neighbors were never given the respect (they believe) they deserve (from everyone) from @SHockeyMama2, (who, ironically, knows pretty much everyone in our city and is well-loved by everyone who has ever met her) who began to loudly refer to them in insulting terms, infused with her southern sweetness, so unless you really knew her well, it would be hard to tell if there were insults being hurled their direction or not, every time she was on my deck or in my backyard.  (Quite entertaining.)

About six months after the family moved in, the fun truly began: suddenly our once quiet "stay-out-of-your-neighbors'-business" neighborhood became "HEY! Let's have neighborhood ladies' get-togethers at each other's homes once a month!"  Initially, I was included in the planning emails, but due to the fact that I have an exceptionally busy life carting my children from one activity to another and a husband who may or may not be home for weeks at a time, I was unable to attend the gatherings (Ok, I admit it: the gatherings were NEVER a priority to me anyway).  This, I believe, was one of my first mistakes.

My next mistake happened this spring when the neighbors decided to put in a 6' high privacy fence on the border of our properties.  Forgive me, but as I watched the browbeaten husband diligently trying to measure where to put the fence while the nagging and disapproving wife, clipboard in hand, looked on, I thought that maybe it would be prudent (and hubby agreed, him being 5 hours away at the time and unable to supervise said fence-building) to go out and chat with the happy (ha-ha) couple regarding the placement of the fence.  While I made small talk and joked with one of their buddies and talked about my plans for a row of raspberry bushes in the area of which they were planning to put the fence, they decided that I was angry about the fence that they insisted had NOTHING to do with us (even though I had received several FaceBook messages and messages via my children that my geriatric dog had pooped in their yard, and I caught their "perfect" little princess swimming in our pool without permission or adult supervision on occasion).  The second day of fence building began with their "guide-line" having snapped at some time in the night, for which I received a, yep, you guessed it, FACEBOOK message asking me if I "had any knowledge of how said line would have been broken? you know, since I am angry about the fence?"  Like I would have wasted my time to go cut their line.  Which is exactly what I asked - if they "were trying to imply that I cut their line?"  Wifey quickly retracted her statement by saying that "perhaps I had seen someone cut it?" (Because maybe I spent the night staring into the darkness outside the one window on that side of the house, guarding their line with my special magical x-ray vision. Yah, sure, you betcha.)  In all honesty, I don't like the fence.  I think it is ugly and does nothing to promote all the neighborly happiness/communication that they seem bound and determine to foster with all the neighborly gatherings they set up (but never host).  However, it is a great support for the raspberry bushes I planted and next spring will be awesome for the rows of giant sunflowers I plan to plant.  (I'm also planning on doing a "sunflower fence" stretching between our outside wall and their fence - just to demonstrate that there CAN be beauty between our yards.)

The summer dragged on with me doing the usual gardening (starting way too many tomatoes and actually sharing them with the neighbors), reading on my deck, yelling at my kids, mowing the lawn, planting raspberry bushes, chatting with all the neighbors when I ventured to the front yard (rare), etc. Until, toward the end of the summer, when the neighbors, through yelling at my girls ("No! You can't play with us in our yard! Your dog pooped in our yard!") and via Facebook (did I mention that their door is a mere 30 feet - if that - from mine?) alerted us to the fact that they believed that our 14 year old Border Collie/Australian Shepard X (also known as the BEST DOG IN THE WORLD) had not only gone into their garage and out the back garage door and pooped in their backyard, but she had also APPROACHED their child who is DEATHLY ALLERGIC TO DOGS. This began a series of events which may have included some FB replies regarding my feelings about passive-aggressive people, my going over to their house, ringing the doorbell several times, walking through their garage and into their backyard, only to find children playing but no adults in sight, more FB messages and finally, the husband coming over to "confront" me about my dog (I also must mention that these are very short people. Which, during the conversation, when he stood on my front stoop and I stood in my doorway, I was towering over him - quite empowering, really).  He insisted that it was my dog (yeah, ok, right) and that if it happened again, they would call animal control.  He had just uttered that detestable sentence when his wife walked up to hear my reply: "Sure, you do that. And the next time my dining room fills with the scent of WEED, I'll be sure to call the cops."  (Did I mention that they're from California? And Liberals? I honestly couldn't give a hoot if they toke up now and then, but could they please not do it behind their 6' privacy fence on the border of our yards? And, if they're going to threaten Animal Control on my geriatric dog, they need to understand that I will go Mama-Bear and fight back viciously.)

At this point, the husband's face went white as he stammered "What? That couldn't have come from our house! That must have been someone else!" as the wife also said, "You think we smoke pot?!" To which I replied, "Either you or some of your friends do, but it was definitely pot."  They went on and on about how they don't smoke weed (I don't care) and about my dog and how terrible my kids are (that really was the last straw) when I finally said, "Get the hell off my porch. NOW." Undeterred, they continued attempting to argue their case until a little voice piped up behind me: "My mom said NOW!" (Which, really, while I appreciate my 8 year old daughter having my back, the timing was really bad, since she just proved them right regarding the behavior of my kids. Regardless, I could barely keep from laughing in their aghast faces.)  They finally stalked off and nothing more was said for several weeks (during which time the husband "disappeared" for over a week, and since then, I've not been given the second-hand high from pot-smoke drifting from their yard into my dining room), which was great.

After a few weeks of avoiding almost all neighborly contact and being excluded from event-planning/invitations by the wife (but having other neighbors be sure I still received said emails - ha! psyc on her bootay!), school began.  I was not looking forward to the first day of school since everyone ends up at the bus stop to watch their little precious babies get on the bus.  Somehow, my crazy next-door-neighbors and I managed to perform the task without having to speak to one another.  However, it was so uncomfortable that I decided to make nice with the neighbors.  So I took them a small bouquet of gloriously blooming sunflowers and made peace (my effort was met with the wife hugging me...ooooo please stay out of my bubble. I'm part Scandinavian - we don't invade space nor do we appreciate space invaders, doncha know? Or maybe SHE DOES KNOW? Devious woman.).

Or So I Thought....

(Stay tuned for Part II)

Update on Linework in NorthEast

Heard from lineman today in Long Island. Apparently the utility has brought in 3500 linemen to restore power to the remaining 80,000 or so still without power in that particular area.  The number of linemen for that small amount of outages is astounding.  Nevada has about 700 linemen in total for the entire state to take care of the grid - so that number is almost equal to the total number of linemen from about 5 states.

Why the hoopla for Long Island? There were several hundred people without power for over 2 weeks in NW ND last spring when the temps were about 20 degrees during the day, but no one seemed worried enough to send/request additional crews to help those North Dakotans in need at that time.  Is it because the people on Long Island are more important than those in ND? Or do they just have louder voices?

The questions swirling around the utilities' efficiency is pretty ridiculous when you realize that over 8 million people who lost power during Irene have had it restored in less than a week.  Most people in Texas during the aftermath of Ike went around 3 weeks without power, but there was no investigations forthcoming to find out the whys of the situation.  Why is that now that the Northeast has been hit that the speed with which power is being restored is being questioned?

My lineman has been told by his superiors that he isn't to talk to customers while he's working the job, and to keep an eye out for the media - apparently they have been sending reporters in to photograph the situation.  Unfortunately, part of the issue stems from the fact that the linemen drive 13' high trucks and many of the "parkways" in the affected areas only allow for a 8' clearance.  This means the equipment can't get through and the linemen have to be creative when figuring how to bring in new poles.  This on top of the fact that they must hand dig all the holes for the replacement poles - something that obviously adds additional time to power restoration.

If there is an investigation that needs to be done, perhaps it should be on the Long Island regulations that allow for 8' clearance on roads and the rules mandating hand-dug holes, not to mention the fact that it took, for one particular job, no less than 4 different people to sign off before the work could even begin.  The linemen are there.  They are trying to get the power restored.  The bureaucracy needs to step back and let the guys do their work.

8 million have had power restored in less than a week.

Questions are being raised regarding the amount of time it is taking to get the power restored to the millions who were left without electricity after Hurricane Irene.  According to the Pioneer Press, 9.6 million people were left without power after the storm raged through several eastern states; as of the time of printing of the linked story, 1.3 million were still without power.  No mention is being made of the fact that over 8 million people have had their power restored in less than a week.  Only complaints that it hasn't been completely restored to all who lost power, even with the floods that ravaged communities, breaking up roads and dismantling bridges in their wake. Do people not understand that in order for the power to be restored, the linemen need to be able to reach the communities - without roads and bridges, how are they to do so?

My husband is one of the thousands of linemen who left their families to travel to the Northeast and restore power to the stricken communities.  He has called me daily and told me about the kinds of obstacles they are facing with each restoration.  His stories include having to drive miles out of the way just to find a road through to a community without power, waiting for "bird-dogs" (safety/EPA people) to show up (as much as 5 hours late) to sign off on jobs, getting lost on winding roads in the Catskill Mountains in Upstate New York, walking several miles of line to find the tree that had fallen and cut off power to many homes, and most recently, sitting in traffic on Long Island while trying to reach his destination where he would be fed and have to endure a long meeting with the utility company execs who would be explaining to the crews what they could and couldn't do while replacing poles and lines.  The rules he faces include being unable to use an auger to dig holes for the power-poles - each pole hole must be HAND DUG before the pole is set.  According to the information given to him, there are at least 100,000 people still without power on Long Island alone, with hundreds of crews trying to restore the grid and get these communities up and running again.  How quickly do you think the power will be restored when each pole has to have a hand-dug hole?  This is quite frustrating for the crews who are there, attempting to do their jobs, but are inhibited by regulations put in place either by Federal, State, Local or Union entities.

If you or your loved ones are without power, please understand that the crews are doing their best to restore it for you.  When Ike hit Texas, some people went without power for weeks.  With a storm of the magnitude of Irene and the millions affected, we should applaud the hard work of the crews who have restored power to more than 8 million people already - this in itself is amazing.