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Writer's pictureMargery Segal

ICE ICE BABY

Updated: Feb 8, 2023

Blog February 6, 2023





Well, it was cold, ice on the trees on top of water on top of a freeze, on top of a drought, on top of another freeze….

Branches broke trees broke powerlines broke and the city, powerless once again, broke.

Our house surged and then lost connection to all power.

My son, still affected by Snowpocalypse-

felt marooned and afraid once again we would be abandoned by the State.

A State that officially doesn’t believe in global warming- so hence, does not believe in Texas freezing. No preparations have been made, no infrastructure has been repaired, the PowerGrid remains unclaimed as a liability. Solutions abound. They are easy to think of laying awake night after night in a freezing house with all the faucets running at a slow drip to keep the pipes from exploding.


The trees, built at a fascinating tensegrity & spray-like balance and then suspended in the awaiting arms of air, were not so lucky. All that weight on the extremities of the heavier and more foliaged limbs just snapped them.

At Five AM down they came. Snarling and cracking hitting the ground in thunderous ripping crashing’s. And I suddenly awake and flying to the windows-who-what-where got hit?


There was no walking that day, the danger of falling branches evidenced in the blocked arteries of the streets. Staying in the cold home without and with hope. All day circumventing the obvious blackout to keep others well enough. We slept huddled up in my son’s room under the eaves for warmth. 5 bodies to heat a small space. Still, the icy temperatures made my ears freeze lips blue head ache. You are the lucky ones I chanted under my breath that produced lightly frosted lies.

Four AM: can I make coffee yet? Please? Memories of terror flood my body while my mind is cheerful, direct, focused. Coffee will make this better. My body is still frozen or once again frozen as two years ago in the nightmare horror-show when the power grid failed in 10-degree weather and people were dying.

The refrigerator works well enough by not working in the frozen house and seems keep the oat milk cream cold enough. No need to move everything outside. All I have to do is light the gas stove with matches in the dark-and there, there is a truth, I am grateful for gas stoves.


All day I cook something-beans and hot water and stews to warm the house-to feed the clenched claws of the traumatized cold cold cold assed bodies of people living through another unfortunate event. Blame? Yes and no. Blame? Where were the leaders?

Not apparently on Twitter.

Twitter was rife with frozen frustration.

The leaders could do much much better-like taking a business course from an airlines-or a suicide hotline. There are a lot of models for acting or not acting like something is a matter of life and death.

I did not have an infant in the house. I thought about all the babies and their parents trying to keep them warm. You see we were some of the lucky ones.

Survival makes you feel lucky.

The rules: You are lucky if you survive. If you don’t, you are very unlucky.


We need each other. That’s the primary thing.

Survival is Need on steroids. Every moment you need something that demands your total attention. Warmth, Food, Sane Thoughts, Sleep.

But the people thing-it’s so necessary that we crawl out of our houses on hands and knees-

risking getting clocked in the head and brain-damaged by an ice-laden branch

to say Slacker-Style,

“Hey, some Weather we are having.. “










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