In our phone conversations last week (There were many: we talk all the time.), Liz was getting a little nervous about the storm but was totally into hurricane preparedness: she was purchasing supplies, cooking the food she had in the freezer, and doing laundry so she might possibly escape what happened when they had no water earlier this year.
Garth (NHRN) was even up on the roof with his caulk gun (ahem), sealing everything up in preparation for the storm. Liz and I often discuss how awesome it is to be married to "manly men", and you can call us traditional in this regard if you want, but we think it is totally HAWT to see our guys fixing stuff and taking care of things around the house. HAWT.
Wait...where was I?
Oh yeah. The storm. ANYWAY...
Liz and I got in one last phone call before the heavy winds started to blow, and resorted to texting after that. I tried to make her laugh because I knew she was freaking out a bit while trying to keep it together for the kids. This exchange was a personal favorite:
Me:"Take cleansing breaths as if you were in labor. Hee hee HOO. Hee hee HOO. (Not to be confused with HOO-HA, which is a different thing altogether.) By the way, tell Garth (NHRN) 'NO HURRICANE BABIES.'"
Liz:"Hurricane babies, now I'm cry-laughing and throwing up in my mouth a little bit."
That's what I was going for, actually.
Anyway, after eventually receiving some terrifying texts about how badly the house was shaking and that transformers were blowing up in her town and lighting up the night sky, I was sufficiently worried. Then the texts stopped coming. Though I was clearly in a more comfortable situation here in the Chicago suburbs, what with electricity and cell phone service and such, as a control freak it was driving me batty, not knowing what was going on and if they were okay.
It was also driving me batty, not being able to talk to her on the phone. WITH her, I should actually say, because I started leaving her voicemail messages every couple of hours. Some were funny, some were just checking in, and one was panicky. That last one was early this morning, when I suddenly realized that Liz might not have access to her caw-fee during this ordeal, and I was struck with a weird sort of terror on her behalf. About coffee. I know: shut up.
Naturally, when I went upstairs this morning for FOUR MINUTES so I could get dressed, I missed a call from Liz.
I WAS GONE FOR FOUR MINUTES. Her timing was impeccable.
I called her back and it went right to voicemail, and I thought I would lose my mind until she tried me again just a couple of minutes later. When I picked up, we shrieked together for a full ten seconds, completely giddy that we finally connected after a really, really, REALLY long time (okay, it was just a few days but in internet time it was practically FOREVER.).
Long story short (You're welcome!) (I get it from Liz.), Liz and family are doing just fine. After days without power, cell phone service, and internet (yikes!), everyone is getting along and they haven't killed each other. Liz's parents and in-laws are fine, too. Garth's (NHRN) work on the roof with that caulk gun of his gave the house the extra protection it needed and it only sustained minor damage that Liz says is cosmetic in nature. They aren't sure when the lights will be back on, but as we were talking on the phone an electric company truck pulled up. It wasn't there long but I'm guessing they were assessing the area and will be back to start work soon.
So there's your update, This Full House readers! Liz is missing the blog and all of you, and will be back just as soon as she can.