There She Blows, Again: Nor’Easter Numero Quatro and the Time I Tried to Kill Tinkerbell

*This photo is old as dirt. I no longer have that sweater, or that turquoise bookcase and I think someone should answer for that. And by someone, I mean me, because I sold them and that was dumb.

Mother Nature is a sadistic broad.

Tomorrow we may get between 6-12 inches of heavy, wet snow. Just two weeks ago we had a massive snow storm and lost power for four days. I mentioned it on Instagram, but I haven’t written about it here because it was one of those “too soon” scenarios. There were low points, like wearing our coats to bed at night, and Fayez and I trying to save all the food in our freezer by loading it into a giant body-size cooler in the garage at 11pm while wearing caving lights strapped to our foreheads. But, there were some high points, like playing card games, going out to dinner, and discovering that our water heater is gas powered.

But considering that this is the first day of spring, and we have a 4th storm headed our way tomorrow, I looked in the mirror this morning and there was a Jack Torrance glint in my eyes.

In other Jack-Torrance-themed news, I wrote an article for Motherly about the time I tried to kill Tinkerbell. I count my blessings every day that our house has far fewer “talking” toys than it did back in the day. Stop over and leave a comment, or just check out their site. If it had existed when I was a baby-mom I would likely have been a little more sane.

In the mean time I’ll be doing all the laundry in the house (in case we lose power again) and begging Madame Nature (because she’s far-less “Mother” lately and far more “Leather-Wearing-Bullwhip-Carrying-Dominatrix”) to please have mercy on our poor, snow covered New Jersey souls.






2 thoughts on “There She Blows, Again: Nor’Easter Numero Quatro and the Time I Tried to Kill Tinkerbell

  1. James’ Mimi (Damon’s grandmother) gave him this Fisher Price Dog to teach body parts (shoulder, leg, etc.) It talked. There was not an off switch easily available. It would randomly talk and say “You’re my friend” and “I love you” from across the room. I had shades of Chucky — and I never saw that movie. I sold it in a garage sale. I felt slightly sorry for the grandmother who allowed the child to talk her into it. I also still have flashbacks when there is a line of these toys at the consignment sale I work & visit. It’s there every time, and some unsuspecting parent (or one who is a sadist) buys those things. There are always only 1-2 left. Shudder. Tinkerbell indeed.


    • These toys truly are demonic. I could never understand the one’s without off buttons, and I really couldn’t understand the ones that had an off button but still managed to talk even when switched off!


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