We finally got our power back–about four hours after my post yesterday. We were powerless a total of 36 hours. Long enough to turn everything in our freezer into mush. Fortunately, we were able to take our valuable cache of frozen breast milk to Gary Copeland’s freezer before it defrosted.
Ian was a little trouper through most of the “ordeal.” He didn’t seem to miss electricity at all and he got to skip day care and spend two extra days at home with Mom and Dad.
We spent an hour cleaning tree debris from the yard, with Ian supervising from his stroller. We didn’t have any real damage, but a good sized limb–probably 6 or 7 feet–fell directly on the roof. The roof is so steeply pitched that it mostly glanced off it, which is a good thing because it’s an asbestos slate roof (dating from 1930!) that would be quite difficult to repair. But, the best I can tell, the limb just scraped a bit of moss off and then rolled harmlessly against the chimney.
That limb falling and this picture from TuscaloosaNews.com of Ivan aftermath illustrate why one retreats to the basement when high winds blow in Alabama.
Marysia points out that Ivan, Jan, John and Ian are essentially the same name in different languages. ‘Course, we already knew that Ian was a miniature hurricane of destruction. Walking through our house most afternoons will confirm that.