The Blizzard of '78

 

I remember this well, we lived in Northern Indiana, the boys were little, we had just moved into a new house, and the blizzard struck.

And did we all snuggle in and ride out the storm, light candles, pop corn and read books to the kids?  Oh, hell no, I fell down the stairs and broke my tailbone.  Poor LC had to bundle me and those poor little boys into his work truck and take me to the ER.  I remember how treacherous the roads were and how we wondered if we would make it home again.  But mostly I remember how much it hurt to try and sit on the toilette and stand back up again.

And that, dear readers, is my memory of the Blizzard of ’78.  Fascinating, huh...