Welcome to The VERB!

Since we last met, a major ice storm ripped through our neck of the woods, and it was a doozy. The ice began to fall on a Friday evening, but it wasn’t till around midnight that we fully realized the effects: trees were losing their limbs. There’s nothing quite like lying in bed, hearing tall and otherwise silent plants begin to snap, crack and ... drop onto the roof of your house. That'll get you moving. A peek out the frosty bedroom window brought us face-to-face with a thick branch, its icy fingers scrapping across the glass as if begging for help. We debated whether to go out and move it completely off the roof, but things were falling so fast out there, we decided to stay put. 

About 2 am, the inevitable happened. Power lines collapsed under the weight of the ice. The house went silent … for a minute. Then all hell broke loose. Thanks to my computer nerd hubby, we have backups everywhere. When we lose power, almost every electronic gadget in the house starts screaming. Combine that with the phones, the paper shredder and the CO detector, and you’d think we were in Code Red, preparing to launch a missile. It was a sight to behold: three of us scurrying about in the dark, candles and flashlights in hand, trying to shut off beeps, whistles and sirens before we went deaf. Funnier than a Marx Brothers movie. 

By the time the sun rose on Saturday, the city had become an official disaster area. I don’t believe a tornado could’ve wreaked worse havoc. Trees across roads, trees across houses, trees across power poles. Thankfully, our house wasn’t damaged. (The one branch that blocked our bedroom window eventually slid to the ground all by itself.) Still, the mess was too extensive to be fixed in one day. So we packed up and left. We stayed with friends, we hung out at our favorite coffee shop (managed to stick fairly close to my writing and editing schedule), we even splurged for a downtown hotel across from the Arch. Four days later, our power finally came back on, and life as we knew it returned to normal.

Almost. I spoke with Charter Cable again the other day and our conversation went something like this: 

I just love a company that knows what's going on and shows a genuine interest in its customers. Warms the cockles of my heart. Silly me, I used to work in retail/customer service, and if a customer had told me she'd reported anything four times, heads would've rolled. But here we are, three days from that last conversation, still with no cable, no explanations, no apologies and no idea when we’ll get service. A satellite dish is looking more and more attractive.

On another note, I've recently installed new anti-virus software, and it's tough. Several valid emails wind up in my junk file every day. When you write, please be sure to fill in the subject line so I don't, horror of all horrors, accidentally delete you. Thanks!

And now, without further ado ... let's turn the page.

Elizabeth Guy
Editor
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This issue 
was published 
under the musical influence of

ANDREA BOCELLI
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