No doubt about it: we're not going to Virginia Beach today. The state has closed I-64 between Williamsburg and Newport News because of icing.
When we woke up, the trees outside were coated with more than half an inch of ice. There had been some snow, but I could still see individual blades of grass sticking up out of the snow. Each blade was its own little icicle. Our kitchen door wouldn't open because there was so much ice holding the screen door shut. The street was one big sheet of ice.
Jean and I both took our showers early, since we figured we might lose power at any time. Jean made a loaf of bread in our new bread maker. We got the bread maker last weekend as a Christmas present for ourselves, and she wanted to be sure we had some bread on Christmas no matter what.
The power went out around one o'clock. I started a fire since we were once again out of heat, and brought more wood in from our woodpile outside. Jean spent most of the remaining daylight hours wrapping presents for everyone in Virginia Beach. I was tired (for no good reason) and took a nap from three thirty to five.
When I woke up, it was getting dark. Jean lit a bunch of candles and put some in the dining room (where she had been working on presents), in the study, in the kitchen and in the bathrooms. It was actually quite pretty, and for a while I could even sit at my desk and read by candlelight.
The phones were still working, so we could talk to family in Virginia Beach and Philadelphia. I think we've got the best Christmas story for the year.
By eight o'clock we were starting to get a little stir crazy. Even with the candles it was dark, but now it was getting cold and the idea of Caesar salads for dinner was less enticing than it had been right after the power went.
I had walked around our neighborhood earlier in the evening, and was surprised to find that houses just a block away had power. What's more, I noticed that one of the main roads in our neighborhood was clear. So after some discussion, we decided we would try to go out for a nice hot dinner. While Jean made calls to some area restaurants to see if they were open, I went out to clear off my car. After fifteen minutes, the defroster wasn't doing anything, and my ice scraper was trapped under the ice in my trunk. So I got in my car, dropped the back seatbacks so I could crawl into the trunk and retrieve the scraper. After ten minutes of hacking, I'd cleared both the front and back windows.
Jean was unable to find any open restaurants. But with the car ready to go, we decided we'd drive around until we found someplace. The Outback Steakhouse was closed, as was T.K. Tripps. Lonestar Steakhouse had stopped seating for dinner at eight. Even The Jewish Mother, Burger King and McDonalds were closed.
We finally found TGI Fridays open, and decided to sit at the bar rather than wait forty-five minutes for a table. Jean had onion rings and a loaded potato, and I had mozzarella sticks. Not the best Christmas Eve dinner, but much better than anything we could have done on our own at home. It was also nice to rejoin civilization for a while and be warm.
After dinner we drove home. The power was still out, so we decided to sing Christmas carols by candlelight. Jean pulled out two music books and I broke out my guitar for the first time in months. We sat by my desk and sang perhaps a dozen songs in the dark. Between dinner and the singing I think we managed to salvage the day. I put the dogs into their cage and Jean and I put on some extra clothes and went to bed, hoping that we'd wake up halfway through the night when the power came back on.
Postscript: After we climbed into bed, I read "Twas the Night Before Christmas" to Jean's tummy using the flashlight I keep in my back pack for walking home at night. We wished each other a merry Christmas, and drifted off to sleep. Not your ordinary Christmas Eve, but a memorable one.
The sleet and freezing rain ended mid-morning, but it was cloudy the rest of the day with highs in the low thirties. When I walked the neighborhood after dark, I was struck by the pink hue of the clouds. I don't know why, but I only seem to notice this pinkness after a snow storm. It was a pretty night.
watching: Celene Dion was on the video monitor at the bar. Is she fluent in English yet? I know hardly anything about her, but she's very dramatic in her performance.
reading: "Twas the Night Before Christmas"
singing: Christmas carols by candlelight
© 1998 Kevin J.T. Creamer