Mr. Shrinking Knitter and I ate dinner a little earlier than usual yesterday. By 6 p.m. I was
You know what's worse than 100 degrees and no rain? That would be 90 degrees, a thunderstorm and no power. It only took about 10 minutes for the heat and humidity to become cloying enough that we decided we needed to get in the car – excuse me, the air-conditioned car – and head out for dessert.
We went north to the nearest town with a Dairy Queen®, about 12 miles from us. That's right, Dairy Queen®. Because nothing fixes downed power line anxiety like an ice cream cone dipped in chocolate. About two miles from our destination the road was blocked and an unseemingly cheerful old fellow was informing travelers that it would take at least an hour to get past the tree and power line which were blocking the road.
So. There's a little mom-and-pop pseudo Dairy Queen® about seven miles south of our house. We headed there. I didn't think they had dipped cones, though, which was the comfort food I was needing.
I was right, but not only did they not offer chocolate-dipped ice cream, they asked us to wait a few minutes while they made more soft-serve. They didn't even have non-dipped ice cream!
Seven miles further was another Dairy Queen®; in mere minutes we were there. Mr. Shrinking Knitter was jonesing for a milkshake and I got my treat, but only after checking the poster listing the nutritional value of DQ® menu items. A small chocolate-dipped cone was 340 calories. I'd eaten about 1000 calories yesterday and did half an hour of free-weight training, good for a couple hundred at least. So even though I fell off the sugar wagon yet again, I still came in under the wire calorie-wise.
All in all, we figure we drove about 50 miles for an ice cream cone. But we were cool! And comfortable!
We were on the very southern edge of the storm. Less than a mile south of our house the roads were dry; it hadn't rained at all. It only rained at our place for half an hour, and it didn't even soak into the ground – no lightning, no hail, no wind and only distant thunder. But falling trees don't care about details like that.
The original restoration estimate was 10 p.m.; we were jolted awake with lights! air conditioning! refrigerator hum! at 1 a.m. Since the second estimate they gave us was 8 a.m., we were pleasantly surprised to be awakened in the middle of the night. I'd had visions of discarding the contents of my refrigerator this morning, but the only thing I'm going to toss is a nearly empty carton of milk.
Most of the time, living in the Middle of Nowhere is lovely, peaceful and pleasant. But sometimes? It sucks.