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.

Ice, ice baby

“Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is the time for home.” ― Edith Sitwell

“What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.” 
― John Steinbeck, Travels with Charley: In Search of America

AUBURN, Maine — Those demented souls, who are still holding out for a white Christmas or want to go walking in a  winter wonderland should visit the Pine Tree State, which is now freeze-dried thanks to a three-day ice storm which has pulled the plug on 100 hundred towns across the state. 

There is nearly an inch of ice on wilting limbs, and we all know how that goes — badly. 

If you want to take your chances on I-95 and don't mind bouncing off guard rails as you slide up the interstate, bring your skates or a dog sled. Everything has been coated with dangerous, solid ice. You can take in spectacular views of trees bowing to Mother Nature and electrical fires as limbs come crashing down on droopy wires. For more spectacular views, you might see transformers bursting like the rockets red glare and witness neighborhoods descend into darkness.

The police scanner is alive with mayhem. Numerous reports of limbs and downed wires are keeping police and fire departments rushing through the snow on eight-cylinder cruisers. There is no rest for weary Central Maine Power crews who have the nerve to repair power lines in the cold, damp dark.

Right now, there are 30,000 of us sitting in the cold dark and shouting obscenities that can be heard for miles around central Maine. A passing Central Maine Power truck brings us to the window and hope. The F-word is the  adjective of the day. Sentences contain three or four of the most reviled word in obscenity's lexicon. We have been stuck indoors for nearly 48 hours as we tend to our wood stoves and generators. 

You take your life into your own hands when you walk to the car or go shopping. My walkway is a miniature ice rink without a Zamboni.

If you are driving, keep an eye for downed wires and remember no power line is safe to touch — ever! Central Maine Power has been reminding Mainers of the dangers of touching a power line for years. 

No kidding! Thanks for the tip!

I am witnessing my second ice storm in the Pine Tree State. In 1998, the rented house I was living in went dark for nearly five days. This family of three was offered a place to stay in front of a warm fireplace at a friend's home for the night. We woke up early and returned to our house, which now resembled an igloo surrounded by sheets of ice.

My son was two years old, and I wasn't about to risk his health. It was time to retreat and live to fight another day with my shovel and rock salt.

That's when we decided to abandon the place and headed down a dangerous I-95. We were like refugees as we fled the cold and ice. My mother, who is no longer alive, opened the door that morning. Her jaw dropped and her eyes nearly popped out her head when she saw us on her doorstep. This family of three was seeking warmth and a hot meal.

That night, I was called back up to Maine to put out the Sun Journal. For the first time in the paper's history, we could not get the newspaper out the night before when the ice storm got its icy hands around the Pine Tree State.

In just 18 hours, I traveled back and forth to Maine to get the edition out on the streets, logging some 470 miles. 

Two days later, the landlord had the rented house up and running with generator. There was heat in the building.

Today, the ice storm of 2013 is like '98's kid brother. It isn't spectacular and we have only lost power three times for about three hours. It is not a bust, though. The city of Bangor might not get power back for nearly a week.

We have been lucky in the Lewiston-Auburn area. Let's just hope Santa won't slide off a roof and hita tree during each rooftop landing. I hate to see the cherubic fellow injure himself on that special night.

The lights are on at my home in Auburn, but all that could change with the drop of a limb.