That’s the comment from an email from the desk of the county’s school superintendent that caught my eye. I hope not, since I have procrastinated getting our stand of sycamores trimmed back, and the deadfalls (well, they were dead after they were pulled down from the trees) from the last ice storm are still “in process,” getting cut up for different lil (and not so little) furniture projects. Oh, and then there’s the whole deadfalls taking-out-POTS-line and spiking through storage shed roof thing. Some of ’em last time were bigger in diameter than my thighs. Much bigger. The lil being without power for a few weeks (and water much of that time) wasn’t a patch on the cleanup.
At least the electric company has been vigorously and regularly trimming trees since the last power outage. Now, instead of ice on the lines AND massive chunks of lines downed by trees, it’s only iced lines that are a potential issue. Much better.
Looking forward to cleanup. *sigh* Oh. Well. I need the exercise.
On another note, neither of our children were living here at the time of the last major ice storm. Lovely Daughter was living 35 miles south and Son&Heir 35 miles north (still in college). This time, both are working down south. Roads Not Good. Lovely Daughter has a place to stay for the evening. Son&Heir does too, but he’s waffling about staying/coming back when he gets off around 10:00. We strongly recommended staying over. Strongly. I’ve slid a car off the road on black ice (traveling under 30mph… more than 30 years ago), under better conditions than he’d be driving in. Our neighborhood streets are solid ice, now, and WILL NOT be scraped/sanded until at least tomorrow, so sliding off the road (and into a neighbor’s front room) on the way down the hill to a sharp hairpin onto our street’s not out of range of the possible. We’ve had a couple of cars slide off the road that’s up a 15′ 80-degree hill above our street slide off the street and down into our front yard in years past, so it’s not inconceiveable. Don’t want to get a call to come collect him out of a bar ditch.
Oh, well. He’s living here, but he’s his own adult and can make his own decisions.