Living with Winter Hurricanes by Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

Living with Winter Hurricanes by Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

The damp weather in Norfolk certainly reminded me of Paris (France).  The weather was perfect for staying inside and writing.  Florence came out of her bedroom and told me stories from time to time.

Finally, she took out her colored pencils and worked on the Bellerophon Sleeping Beauty coloring book Laurent and I gave her.  I liked these books, because they gave the biography of Tchaikovsky as well as the storyline of the ballet.

I put on a CD of music from Tchaikovsky’s Sleeping Beauty ballet that my mom’s friend and one of my childhood mentors gave me for Christmas.

Florence liked the sinister witch’s music from Sleeping Beauty.  I also played the Nutcracker and Swan Lake for her, but Florence did not care for them as much.

I began looking through some French etiquette books that I owned.  One must know how to stir one’s coffee after all.

I read etiquette books as shortcuts to understanding foreign cultures.  Seating order is different in many cultures and reflects different interior design and social structure.

I did a lot more cleaning in February, a good month for nesting in Norfolk due to winter storms called “Nor’easters.”  A big Nor’Easter hit in the middle of the first week of February.

Tides were expected to be four to five feet above normal.  Florence told me when I picked her up, “School might close for rain.”

Children in Norfolk look forward to “flood days” like the kids in the Midwest look forward to “snow days.”  We lived right on the ocean, but were on high ground in a brick apartment building.

I could already see cars driving by that shot five-foot waves of water behind them.  Laurent had duty, so we did have to go out in foul weather on that day at least to pick him up at the port.

The deluge struck the next afternoon.  I felt like I was walking through a never-ending waterfall as I went to pick up Florence from school.

I could not understand why they just did not call off school in the morning.  Rivers of water ran in the street by Florence’s school.

I was waterlogged by the time I saw her.  Laurent was due to leave the ship that evening.  I wondered if he would stay on the ship or not.  I was afraid of flooding at the docks.

I put on Handel’s Water Music, which seemed appropriate for the weather.  Florence wrote out her Valentines.  She put a check next to the name of each person in her class. 

Every person in the class got a Valentine or the student could not pass out Valentines.  The teacher checked the Valentine bags.  I liked Florence’s school’s “No Child Left Behind” practices.

Florence finished and examined her cards and said, “The boys are not going to like the Anastasia cards.”

“No one will care about what’s on the card as long as they get one,” I said.

The rain continued to pour, making me want to cuddle up with a pot of hot tea beside me.  Laurent called at 1 p.m. and asked me to come and get him.

The rain soaked Florence and me just going out to the car.  Our umbrellas flew back in the wind, leaving us exposed to the elements.  The freeways drained well, but the surface streets resembled lakes.

Laurent was soaked when we got him.  I asked him to drive, since I was pretty frazzled by the blurred drive to the port.

“I predict flood day tomorrow,” I said to Florence, who was shivering.

She put her arms around me and smiled.  We stopped at the video store on the way home and we all felt great to walk inside our little apartment warm up.

By Ruth Pennington Paget, author of Eating Soup with Chopsticks and Marrying France

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