The dream of a White Christmas was kind of like a nightmare.

AUBURN, Maine —Anybody who dreamed of this White Christmas, should be, and I am quoting one of my favorite writers, Charles Dickens, “boiled in in their own pudding and buried with a stake of holly through their heart.”

Bing Crosby has suddenly become my enemy and his holiday dream turned into a nightmare for many snowbound residents of New England. I never understood why Irving Berlin wrote this song. 

Did he ever shovel his driveway or try to drive a car in snow!

I was going to spend the afternoon eating, drinking and being merry, but a Nor’easter dropped a foot of snow on us this Christmas and buried both my driveways with annoying white powder.

But now my son and I will be manning the shovels and cursing another snowstorm on Christmas. Instead of raising a toast to my fine family, I will be tossing snow over my shoulder in the Arctic air.

Bah humbug! Are there no work houses for Mother Nature and Old Man Winter?

I would have preferred the sun, temperatures in the high 30s and a place to walk without fear of slipping on ice and hitting the ground with a skull-cracking thud.

Yeah, baby it’s cold outside!

Yukon Cornelius had it right when he screamed, “It is not fit for man nor beast.”

But before you call me Scrooge, I used my girth and muscle and extricated a car stuck in snow.

But no good deed goes unpunished. The plow came and left a wall a snow in front of my driveways the could have only been scaled with repelling gear.

I am lucky to be surrounded by neighbors who know how to be right neighborly and haven’t lost the Christmas spirit. Two of them snowblowed my driveways despite the frightful weather. Their kindness is just one of the many reasons why I offer them fresh vegetables from my garden each summer.

I was not dreaming of a white frigging Christmas. The last thing I wanted to be was snowbound thanks to Mother Nature, who took all of New England out for a walk this Monday.

Despite the shoveling and the biting cold, I have to admit the snow gave the holiday a special glow and a reason to get outside and breath that fresh Canadian air.

Forgive me for sounding like a cranky Mainer lamenting about winter’s wrath, but like Dr. Seuss said: “Adults are obsolete children.”

I am no different.

NPR’s reporting shines a light in the Upside Down

"Natural disasters are terrifying - that loss of control, this feeling that something is just going to randomly end your life for absolutely no reason is terrifying. But, what scares me is the human reaction to it and how people behave when the rules of civility and society are obliterated." 

— Eli Roth

AUBURN — For two and half days, it felt like we were out of the loop after a nasty Nor’easter sideswiped Maine and left thousands of the state’s denizens groping in the dark the past week.

Just before I watched the lights fade from every room (thank you, Moody Blues), the annoying radio alarm sounded revelry at 6 a.m.

I bounded out of bed and told my annoyed wife that we still had power.

I should have kept my mouth shut.

Five minutes later, I saw a flash of light outside the bedroom window and watched the radio clock and night light go out.

Silence filled the room. 

The neighborhood went dark and I was drowning in anxiety, not knowing where my next cup of coffee would come from in these perilous and dark times.

We felt like we stumbled upon the portal to the Upside Down. I also realized I didn’t possess No. 11’s power turn the frigging electricity back on. 

“Oh damn it,” I said as I reached for the flashlight. More four-letter words followed when I bumped into objects along the way to a pitch-black kitchen.

Cable and Internet were out of action and a dormant coffee maker denied me my morning jolt of caffeine. 

The power was gone. I was unhappy, cold and the sudden quietness was already getting on my nerves.

My wife and I would snipe at each other by candlelight for the next two days. We hung out anywhere we could to get the Internet. We visited the Lewiston Library and drank coffee at Dunkin just for the WiFi. We were like wandering, energy vampires looking to suck up free Internet on somebody else’s dime.

We weren’t overreacting. News stories were breaking that Mueller and his team of lawyers started making arrests in the Russian controversy. We were gleeful that Mueller’s band of merry men were making headway, but we were still on the sidelines with no TV or Internet. 

That’s when we turned to National Public Radio for our news and a chance to cheer on Mueller for getting to the bottom of this mess that our president appears to ignore.

We commandeered our son’s ancient radio, stuck some batteries in the back and listened to “All Things Considered” and an endless stream of NPR stories about Mueller’s fearless exploits.

NPR was like another flashlight in our dark home.

For 60 hours, I lived in the murkiness of the Upside Down. I missed taking a warm shower and brewing a cup of that black gold that jump-started my mornings.

When the sun rose, I got the camera and took pictures of downed trees and power lines. Auburn was a mess and its inhabitants were in a bad mood.

So we waited impatiently as hoards of linemen descended on the Pine Tree State to help put lights back on in New England.

My tour of our wind-swept state was startling. The telephone pole near the end of my street had snapped in two and wires still were connected to the top half of the pole that was resting in the middle of the street.

Mother Nature had done a number on us.

But there was hope — if you believe in hope. Linemen were working on the broken pole for two days. By Wednesday, they were mounting the relays on the top half, and wouldn’t you know it, the power returned in the morning and all was well in my neighborhood by evening.

The TV and Internet came back to life in our home and there was warm water running in the sink to wash the damn dishes.

We were fortunate. There are still over 5,000 people wandering in the dark in Maine. I am sure the level frustration for those Mainers is in the red. 

For us, life was good again and we were grateful to those men who work with electricity and brave danger to put the state of Maine back on line.

And shout-out to NPR for keeping two people informed after two dark days. And with power on, the portal to Upside Down has been closed — for the moment.

A fine how do you do from Old Man Winter

"Maine is a joy in the summer. But the soul of Maine is more apparent in the winter." 

Paul Theroux

 AUBURN — Winter left its calling card two days before the new year arrived.

Old Man Winter wanted to assure residents of New England that he was still in the neighborhood and doesn’t like to be forgotten.

The weather guys and gals got this wrong again, but that is nothing new when it comes to Maine’s fickle forecasters.

Of course, weather reports varied just like Trump’s inane Tweets. We were on the receiving end of 19 whopping inches of snow in western Maine. It took 15 minutes with two guys (me and my son) manning  shovels to clear the walkway to the street.

It is miserable, heavy snow that puts your heart through a stress test.

But, and I hate to say this, we needed the white stuff after a summer drought that I had never witnessed in my lifetime.

For the morons who don’t believe in global warming, it was the hottest year ever on the planet, and if we continue to treat the globe like a toilet, watch Florida disappear thanks to rising tides due to a melting polar ice cap. I can’t fix stupid and I fear for the environment when an uninformed and inept presidency is sworn in at the White House on Jan. 20.

China is creating 10 miles of desert each year because of its neglect of its natural resources. You have to ask yourself what is the sense of being an economic powerhouse if a nation can’t drink its water due to rampant pollution. I guess having a fat wallet can justify ignorance.

Anyway, enjoy the snow and Old Man Winter’s chilly touch as we head into another year.