Lynn's Snow-capades: How I Survived Snowmageddon 2023, Part 2

Day 11 of no electricity, 17 days snowed in

Yippee!! And just like that, the lights are back on! Suffice it to say; I am one very happy camper right now.

And yet, that's only part of the story. Shall I continue?

For those of you who have been following this crazy Snowmageddon saga, today was so much more than the restoration of electricity. It was a day of soul restoration, as well. With lots of magic!

As you could probably tell from my last writing, the longer the power outage, the more my patience and optimism began to fade. And after a few more ups and downs regarding a possible restoration date, the last threads of my positivity finally unraveled when hit by the news that it might be yet another week to get our power restored -on top of the already 10-day outage we had just survived. So...not only did 'Pollyanna' die a miserable death, but grumpiness and depression quickly rallied to fill her boots.

Immediately following the PG&E update, I allowed myself a full-blown toddler tantrum meltdown. Fortunately, I live alone, so no one had to witness the unpleasantries of my little pissy-fit. No one had to experience my cranky, cantankerous, whining out-loud voice about how 'totally unfair' my absurd predicament was.

While a somewhat satisfying catharsis, it didn't take long to realize my bellyaching wasn't really getting me anywhere either, so I quickly hit the reboot button and once again pep-talked myself into coming up with yet another Plan B.

First, I would surrender to, and accept, my latest reality. Next, I would alchemy an even more creative way to do life now that I was down to slim-to-no resources. (Didn't come up with a plan necessarily, but it did feel good to at least shift the energy.)

I awoke the next morning feeling lighter. Of course, I still had my daily chores to check off: Melt snow for water. Bring firewood in from the shed. Dodge melting snow dumps and carefully maneuver the new sinkholes that had appeared overnight in the deceptively snow-packed pathways.

But there was something different. My mood was different. Lighter and easier. I didn't feel the tension I had been feeling for days. I felt that no matter how bleak things were looking, maybe, just maybe…anything was possible this day.

My renewed lens led me to having a sincere talk with my dad. Dad, who had passed from this plane some 11 years ago, yet remarkably, often felt like he was still right there, right beside me. Especially when it came to receiving help from beyond: Dad, flanked by his team of fellow angels, gathered together in times of need. My grandparents, my aunt, and many who had crossed over -yet whose powerful spirits were still felt in present time. Next to me. Protecting me. Protecting the house I live in.

My freezer was thawing rapidly, and I had run out of propane for the generator that only uses propane. I did have an old gas generator that had 5-year-old gummy gasoline in it and rarely started up. But last time I used it, it took around 50 yanks on the pull cord to get it barely chugging, and when it did run, it sputtered and coughed and backfired and kicked itself off repeatedly.

Surely a year later, it couldn't possibly start. Could it?

Then again, if 'anything was possible,' and there was an extra hand from the power team on high, then who knows?

So…I tried starting it –yet without asking for assistance. (I had forgotten I had the option.) 20 arm-wrenching yanks of the pull cord later and nothing happened. Not even a tiny burp. And my arm was beginning to cramp. Then, duh…I remembered to ask for help.

First, I clearly envisioned the generator running. Then I confidently asked for help from the folks upstairs (or wherever they happened to be hovering.) Within a few seconds of my request...voila! The generator started right up and instantly purred as smoothly as if it had just had a tune-up.

I threw my arms up in the air and shouted out loud, "Thank you, Dad. Thank you, Angels!" I realized I had just been given the gift of at least another week of fridge/freezer power (albeit carefully rationed power.)

But the way life rocks and rolls… no sooner had I returned inside from generator success, when I get a text from Mom's tenants (in the family home that is now a rental) stating that the neighbor's giant pine tree that both Mom and Dad had always feared would fall, had indeed fallen in last night's storm.

Now…This tree. This behemoth tree was on a hill, leaning over, more and more each year, in a direct line to fall on and wholly crush my parent's house. Like my parents before me, every year, I would think, "I better get on that task before it wipes out the house." But, also, like my parents, I did not take action. Too hard to hunt down the absentee neighbors. Too tricky to persuade them that it would be a hazard and liability if they didn't take it down. And so, the task got put off -even though the ominous burden remained.

Until last night, that is. When I first read the text, a wave of panic hit me. Was anyone hurt? Was the house destroyed? And how was I ever going to deal with this mess when I was trapped in my own home, some 6 hours north of theirs?

Then I read further. The tree did not hit any buildings. Nobody was hurt. How was that even possible? There are 4 buildings close by. It could have and should have, hit at least one. Especially given the size of it -with a root ball taller than a building.

And yet, it fell completely to the left of how it had been leaning and laid down exactly on the property line between the other neighbor's house and Mom's. And even better: the tree itself did not land on Mom's property. The only non-emergency job at hand was to clean up and haul away a few branches from her yard.

When I heard the details of this uncanny incident, I immediately teared up. I knew my father had somehow had a part in this perfect felling of the giant pine tree. The tree should not have fallen in that direction. The generator should not have started. Dad and the angel team had protected his house and taken care of me. And now the power was back on.

A shift in perspective? A little intention? A little magic? Most likely: A lot of divine help and protection…that we can only speculate about.

Snowmageddon, the finale -starting next week!

About the author and column: The Mountain Messenger is pleased our local singer/songwriter Lynn Zanetta is sharing from her journal about the snow storms of 2023. We have made every effort to maintain the integrity of the journal entries with few edits to preserve her voice and spirit.