How's that for a crazy storm.

It only lasted a few minutes, but wow, it was somethin'.

If you didn't experience it, you can read about it here.

Looking out the front windows of the shop when it hit was like being in a car wash. The sky was dark as night. The wind gusted. Rain fell in horizontal sheets. Cottage Street was instantaneously transformed into a white-capped river. It was actually pretty cool. Until one giant bolt of lightning hit just a few blocks away, and the electricity said so long. Plunged into quiet darkness once again. Two days in a row. Guess I picked the wrong summer to quit drinking.

Unlike the night before, it seemed probable that this one would last more than the one hour of its predecessor.

I had actually planned to fire up the gas generator that day, just to make sure it was still working. Turned out, she was called up to the show. No sense just practicing during a real power failure. This was the scene at the end of my street....

There was a similar scene at the other end of the street, and throughout the town.
Check out these photos.
And the pond has turned a pale shade of brown...


Well, the night was a bust, but thanks to my trusty little generator, there were no ice cream casualties to report. Power came back in time to switch everything back, scoop a few late night customers, and call it a night. Phew.

There was one interesting happening amidst the chaos and stress of the possible microburst-induced blackout. About an hour into the powerlessness, a group of people came up to the door. As I approached from the back of the shop, I prepared myself to deliver the bad news that the ice cream must not be disturbed when there's no power. Not to mention the fact that the shop was almost dark, the register didn't work, or the scales, warmers, and everything else needing the juice.

I tried to wave them off, but they seemed determined to plead their case.

Turned out, it was a group of twenty foreign exchangers, from Poland, Columbia, Dominican Republic, and a number of other faraway places. Their 'trip to a local ice cream parlor' had been planned for weeks. They'd each been to the website, picked the flavor they would order, and had even learned how to say 'I'd like a regular Cookie Dough in a cup, please.' in English. The American group leaders had looks of near panic. They asked if they could buy a tub and some cups and spoons. I pondered the situation for a second, but as soon as my mind began to imagine the sight of twenty foreign visitors with ice cream, dodging downed tree limbs and live wires as they walked around the pond in the rain, it was clear I needed to open my door and let them in.

I couldn't go into all the freezers, so basically I hauled out a tub of vanilla and started scooping. After they were all scooped, I wandered back to check on the generator. A few minutes later, I returned to find twenty men and women, from all corners of the globe, each eating a bowl of classic American homemade vanilla ice cream. In the dark. Few were speaking. There were just too many different languages to go around.

It was a little surreal, kindof cool, and came as a nice little respite from the anxiety I felt as I wondered how long Western Mass Electric would be clearing trees off the wires.

Their organizers had each given them a 'scoop coupon' to use during the field trip, but since it turned out to be just one big vanilla scoopfest in the dark, I hope to see most of our foreign visitors for a cup of their first choice soon. To which I hope to be prepared with a merci, gracias, danke, or dziekuje.