Chicago ain't got nothing on us

Last night I dreamt of a storm surge that brought waves up to our back patio porch door. I remember thinking in the dream "that can't be good for the septic system".  We live on a lake not the ocean, so storm surges aren't going to drown our backyard (thankfully) as last night would definitely have been a problem.  But being the tallest, skinniest house on top of a hill, in front of a lake and behind an industrial park = not a goddamn tree in sight to stop the 110 km/hour gusts from shaking the whole house all.night.long.  Slept poorly, worried about the house and the electricity bill (the wind ripped off our roof covering to the bathroom ventilation system yesterday.  There is effectively a four inch hole in our roof now.  How do you like them apples , Dave Sukuzi?")  Hubby said he could feel the 72" picture window in the living room flex with the pressure of hurricane-strength winds pummeling it directly.  My mental image of cold grey waves lapping our back door was replaced with the image of our front window blown out, drapes flapping wildly around Christmas present strewn about the front lawn. 

So I guess my options were to stay home and wait for the power to go out (and then not be able to use the bathroom or cook a meal properly) or come to work.  So here I am, having braved the wind tunnel in front of my 15-story research tower, slipping on ice-covered (salt-free) roads and sidewalks.  Looked like this.  And in fact, the whole downtown area has no power either, but my building runs on a generator.  Us, and the hospital.  

Blogging (and cough cough research) is too important to be left to Nova Scotia Power Inc.