December

Nick says, "this really is first and second chakra stuff.  Not a metaphor for it, this is it.  You are struggling with basic survival needs.  You don't have a house, you are alone, you're trying to figure out how to get money when you are working around the clock to create a shelter for yourself while you're living in a chicken coup."

I break in here, "But it's a pretty nice chicken coup, Chicky Hilton."  Even so my eyes well up, I know I am dealing with survival issues and nothing is letting up.  Two generators have broken, the compressor has frozen along with the hammer gun, window caulk and my toes, fingers and spirit.  Tempetures plummet to eight degrees, then raise to thirty, then fifty back down to thirty and then the rain begins....freezing rain!

Last night I abandoned ship, risking the walk down to my neighbors where I would be safe from falling trees as long as I made it there.  At first I heard just the spray of ice on my roof from branches dropping a few inches under the weight of new ice coating.  But around 10:30 pm a new sound started; the crack and fall of limbs and the pound of ground as they hit earth.

I put my fleece on and stood outside with my head lamp lighting the canape of trees over my 10x16 Chicky Hilton.  Was I safe?  Not likely. 

It takes great amounts of courage for me to pull up stakes and show up on somebodies' door step in the middle of the night.  "What if I am waking them?  Maybe I will scare them...Maybe they don't want company."  I overrode these thoughts semi rapidly as more trees cracked, and ice spilled onto my small metal roof.

Quickly, I collected what I would need for the morning, dog food for Ruby, tea, evaporated milk and a Cliff Bar.  I put pants over my pajamas and slip on cleats over my boots and was out the door.  I gave a quick look at some of my valuable possessions: a bronze water fairy bust and my artwork, but quickly nixed any thoughts of their rescue...prayer would have to do the trick.

Out the door, shaking as I walked yet alert for the beginning of sounds of cracks, ready to sprint quickly if a tree started its free fall and hopefully I would chose the right direction to run.  Within a 100 feet I was stepping over a tree in my path.  "Go, go, go!"  I think, quickening my pace.  Ruby is free in front of me, running fast.  "Three minutes max and we will be there.  Just get to the drive way and we will be safe."

In the morning I find out how wrong I was, chain saws will be the only solutions to move the nine limbs from the exact place I had those thoughts.