June 11, 2011 by Renee
Usually I don’t like blogging too often about daily life. I like to relate my posts to writing and publishing as this is supposed to be an “author” blog. But you know, so much has happened this week, it’s actually inspired a bit of writing, so I suppose it’s kind of related.
First, the lighthearted stuff. I have not been able to sign into Blogger in months. WTF, Blogger? Get your shit together. I can sign in to post at the moment, but for some reason, I’m not allowed to comment on my own damn blog. Whatever. That’s minor. I just wanted you all to know I haven’t forgotten the Edge or even gotten lazy, as I sometimes do. Blogger is just being an ass.
Second, on Wednesday night an awesome storm ripped through our little area. The winds gusted enough to sway the big tree in front of our house, making Kurt and I a bit nervous to go to sleep. I mean, waking with a tree in your living room isn’t exactly my idea of a good night. Plus, with a tree in the living room, our only exit is through the windows…also not my idea of fun.
The lightning filled the sky with shades I’ve never seen lightning produce before. Pink, yellow, orange…beautiful. I barbequed in the downpour, because if we wanted to eat, there was no choice. Kurt arrived home to take over the barbeque shower, while I went inside to reassure Kennedy. She doesn’t like storms, and Kurt and Court were not helping matters by telling her tornado stories. Why? I don’t know. They’re knobs, both of them.
When the power first went out, I searched for a flashlight. I found the big yellow one I find every time the power goes and I try it, knowing full well it won’t work. Four fucking years we’ve had this flashlight but it’s never had a battery in it. On Thursday I picked up the big battery it requires.
Eventually we went to bed, with the power out, fully expecting to wake with lights on, coffee maker able to make the bitter elixir that turns me from dragon to human each morning. Alas, it was not to be. We woke to nothing but debris. No, not our house. It’s standing, the trees are fine, but up the road trees cover power lines and roofs and yards. At the schools, giant oaks that have stood for more years than I can recall are either split in two or completely down. Going through town more trees are broken, and cable antennas are attached to the wrong homes.
Oh, storms are awesome, but damn it, why do they have to be so disruptive? We were out of power until Friday night. Some have it far worse and are still living without lights or internet or phones. Awful. I work online, so I’m rather dependent on this thing we call electricity. My paycheck this week will suck very much I’m afraid. Meh, what are you gonna do, right?
We lost everything in the little freezer, but it was pretty much crap anyway. My poor parents had to jam the meat and other items from the big freezer into theirs. My parents are quite awesome, I must say.
Really, I would have said before this that I could handle a couple of days without electricity, but you know, I would have been wrong. I hate it. I hate having no hot water. I hate that I’m limited to a single coffee or if I’m lucky, a thermos made by someone else. I hated warm drinks, cold food and barbequed anything. Seriously, only three days and I never want another barbequed anything. I hated that my kids were driving me insane. Bored? Go OUTSIDE. Jeeze. I guess I had more to do than they did. I’m trying to keep a house clean in the midst of a lice epidemic (LICE! Bastard insects with no purpose) without the benefits of hot water, light or vacuuming, oh and a washing machine and dryer. Is it fair, Mother Nature, that I finally get a dryer and you steal its juice? I think not.
Kennedy blamed the whole fiasco on me. I called Mother Nature an asshole a while back and this is my punishment apparently.
So, yes, I admit it. I’m completely dependent on electricity and technology. I hate that my hair looked like a big old ball of fluff because I couldn’t use the wonderful gadgets that burn it into submission. I hated that my coffee maker stood dark and empty. I hated using a phone with a cord. I hated having no access to the internet, my work, or my lovely cyber-friends. I hated that by 8pm I was ready for bed because it’s just too damn dark to do much else. I was even irritated that I couldn’t vacuum or do laundry. Yes, imagine that. I was angry because I couldn’t clean.
The hydro is back. I am happy.
The final event that I wanted to post about is what fired me up to writing this week. I won’t say I was “inspired” as much as writing was the only way to unload my utter sadness and explosive rage at what happened. A young mother, only 19 years old, was stabbed to death (this is putting it mildly) by her boyfriend on Tuesday. This happened right downtown in Tweed, where the couple argued all day according to neighbors. I’m not going to repeat details, because as with all small towns, they’re many and likely inaccurate. What I do know, from news sources and people close to those involved, is that not one person in their building called the police despite the girl’s cries for help. Not one. The murderer (that’s what he is and I refuse to call him anything else) took their two children (a toddler and an infant I’m told) down to another apartment so that he could kill her. This person didn’t call 911 either. Another neighbor, who wished to remain anonymous, told the local news that he went to a friend’s house just to get away from the noise caused by the two. He didn’t call 911 either. Why? I’m not really sure.
Here’s the thing; she may be alive today or maybe not, if someone had called. But we’ll never know because no one did call. The murderer called the cops to tell them what he’d done. That’s the first they knew this girl was in danger. Sad? Disgusting? Oh, very much so and so many more things I don’t have the words to express. The murderer also attacked the police, injuring one before being shot twice. Last I heard he’s in critical condition. Honestly, I hope he doesn’t make it.
What kind of world is this that a woman can be in obvious distress and no one cares? If they do, they’re too worried about themselves and their lives to get involved. I would much rather call the police and have it turn out that I was wrong then EVER risk someone’s life. It costs you nothing to pick up the phone. No one has to know it’s you. You need never be involved beyond that single phone call. What’s it worth to save a life? Those kids might think it’s worth far more than your short-term inconvenience.
So, that was a week in my life. I hope never to have a week like this again and I hope that what happened to that poor girl at least serves to make at least one person pick up the phone the next time they hear a fight. Sorry, but you can never be sure what is actually going on. I hope the people that heard her cries and opted to do nothing, or to leave the building are haunted every day for the rest of their lives by the sound of her screams. I hope they are never able to get her final moments out of their heads. Maybe if they can’t ignore it, they’ll do something next time.