SNOWVENTURES: STUCK IN DANBURY IN AN UNUSUAL OCTOBER NOR’EASTER

The bloody handprint on my front door watches the snow comes down a little harder, 1:23 p.m.

The last time in my memory we had a storm like this here in the area where I grew up was in 1988. Although this storm has fouled not only my plans for the weekend but so many others’—my friend Stacey couldn’t go to a Duran Duran concert, my friend Lisa’s catered party is canceled, my friend Nanette’s party in the wilds of upstate New York will see fewer guests (she lives in a tiny town; those nearby can walk), we won’t be able to go cocktailing tonight, what would have been our last time after fifteen years, in our favorite cemetery—I’m no longer upset about it…in fact, the visual conflict between Poe Season and George Washington Season is magical and interesting.

I started chronicling the storm just for fun. Nathan was out trying to get last-minute supplies…and the storm hit early, leaving him stuck on the roads trying to get home (his harrowing tale on video below is definitely a don’t-miss). Our Mayor lost power (he put this on Twitter). I have to say something nice about our Mayor here: the man is ALWAYS on Twitter, and if you Tweet him, he answers. Very cool. Last I heard, he was sending trucks out to get people off the roads, as the roads are closing here to all but emergency personnel at 4 p.m.

So, where are we now? Nathan made it home. We’re stocked. We’re ready to lose power. And we’re enjoying the last of our Poe Season activities while there’s a GW Bday blizzard outside. Right now, we’re watching Halloween (the original), and we have The Haunting and a few others slated. Charles has a martini. Nathan has a glass ofTawnyPort. I have a bowl of wine. It feels like Halloween, and it feels like winter. It’s disorienting in a very Dali-esque way—and that’s something every horror/ghost story writer should keep in mind. It’s another unsettling current we can use to instill terror in our readers.

And I’ve discovered that sometimes it’s the contrast in things that makes life really interesting and takes the sting out of an otherwise huge disappointment.

Here’s some video and photos so far. Ah…New England in October. Time to write a ghost story…this one I’ll set in summer.

The bloody handprint sees the first few flakes of the storm, 12:04 p.m.

The first flakes of the storm begin falling, 12:04 p.m.

Our Cemetery of the Dismembered Dolls huddles on the porch as the storm begins, 12:08 p.m.

The first flakes begin to fall while the Cemetery of Dismembered Dolls huddles on the porch.

The Weather Channel’s forecast for our area at the moment, 12:09 p.m.

The bloody handprint, 12:22 p.m.

A view out my dining room window. This is actually my favorite view in the house no matter what time of year. It’s so serene, so Frost-ian.

A view out my kitchen nook. I love the bloody “BEWARE” in contrast with the snow. It’s just something we never see together.

No, I’m not “GETTING OUT” at the moment. The roads are so bad there’s nowhere to go!

 

The snowfall increases while the bloody handprint keeps watch.

Nathan’s glass of port, 2:47 p.m. He left the house at 11 a.m. for supplies, went to two stores, and then spent the rest of the time trying to get home. He deserved this and I was more than happy to pour it for him!

Nathan relates his hellish how-I-barely-made-it-home adventure.

Nathan relates a harrowing tale of slipping, sliding, cars careening off the road, cars at dead stops, trees cracking—and transformers on fire.

The Cemetery of Dismembered Dolls begins to succumb.

The Cemetery of the Dismembered Dolls begins to succumb. We didn’t move their bodies, only the stones, because, you know, we want some poltergeist activity. The lights ARE beginning to flicker…

The fact that this tree is so laden with snow is scary. Normally with snow like this, the trees are bare, so there’s no threat of them caving under the weight like there is now.

The Gods of Halloween watch over us from their spot on the refrigerator.

My bowl of red wine. This glass is the inspiration for the set that appears in my new short story “This Poisoned Ground.”

Check THIS out! The power was blinking way too frighteningly…and as we all know, when that happens, wireless phones go out. So…here I am, talking on the phone with my friend Maureen, on THE GOOD OLD-FASHIONED 1980s phone. Damn. The sound is so good, and the “Call Waiting” button is so satisfying to press, and when the power goes out you don’t drop the call…yeah, modern technology, but this stuff is GREAT!

Advertisements

About kristipetersenschoonover

A ghost story writer who still sleeps with the lights on, Kristi Petersen Schoonover’s fiction has appeared in countless magazines and anthologies. She has received three Norman Mailer Writers Colony Residencies, is a co-editor for Read Short Fiction, and co-hosts the Dark Discussions Podcast. Her work Skeletons in the Swimmin’ Hole is a collection of ghost stories set in Disney Parks; her horror novel, Bad Apple, was nominated for a Pushcart Prize. She’s also a member of the New England Horror Writers Association. More info: www.kristipetersenschoonover.com

Posted on October 29, 2011, in Deep Thoughts & Fun Stuff, News and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: