Weird things happen in such storms as this. One friend told me about her dog that just wouldn’t go out for the daily walk with the same enthusiasm — a day before it hit. My partner, who has Huntington’s Disease, took our wonderful new Bose radio and huddled under the covers for several happy days. My heart raced with thoughts of friends I haven’t seen for awhile, and my fingers itched to start making phone calls — of which I am ordinarily terrified, for some reason.
And then, the phone started ringing! Yesterday, the storm blew in a dear long-ago roommate, driving back to Maryland from Montreal when her plane was cancelled. So I took the storm day on her behalf, a pleasant ramble along our lakefront, followed by a Chinese dinner, despite all my recent shopping.
Today, a friend in New York City called. How could she have known I checked her address against the evacuation maps, when we haven’t spoken for more than a year? How could she have known — in asking her wonderful question about European roots of Flower Communion — that I’ve been reading medieval and Roman history in desperate hopes of learning exactly that kind of information?