Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts

Saturday, January 11, 2025

Ice Storm!


Ice Storm

by Wil Bosbyshell

We went to bed with snow falling outside. Our son, Allen, was five years old and loved playing in the snow. But he was asleep and had been asleep for hours.

I considered, for a nanosecond, waking him up. Nope. Never wake up a sleeping child.

I woke with a start and sat up in bed. “What woke me up,” I thought. The answer came in the sound of something hitting the outside of our house hard. The sound was coming from the other side of the wall behind our bed. As I jumped out of the bed, what sounded like a giant claw struck the house and slid down grinding and scraping.

I threw up the window blind. My backyard was bright, brilliant snow reflecting the moon light like a mirror. Everything glittered and glistened. “What the heck was going on,” I thought. The wind howled and I saw the honey locust tree next to our house hit the side of our house again. Squinting into the night, I saw something was wrong with the tree. It was white and shiny at the same time. I watched the top of the tree bend toward the ground. The branches of the tree clawed the side of the house again, but this time the tree didn't recover. The top of the tree kept moving down slowly instead of bouncing back to its normal height. Down and down until the trunk snapped with a crack, breaking in half. Shards of ice flew in all directions as the tree top collided with the ice-covered ground. It was 6:00 AM.

In the silence after the tree snapping, I heard a sound behind me. “Papa, did it snow,” Allen asked. He was an early riser like all kids. “It sure did, let's go outside and look,” I said. Allen turned running back into his room to get dressed. I did the same. My wife Maura slept through the whole thing.

I helped Allen into his winter boots, gloves, and hat. To put on a jacket, I sang a silly song based on DEVO’s Whip it, “When a jacket comes along, you must zip it. Let's explore the backyard first.” “OK, Papa.”

As we walked through the icy winter landscape, I realized what had happened. First it snowed about two inches and then the temperature rose above freezing, with the snow turning to sleet. The snow began to melt, it rained and then the temperature fell below freezing again. Now about 1/2 inch of ice coated the two inches of snow.

An ice storm!

The ice crunched under our feet as we broke through the top crust. The trees were surreal. A layer of ice coated every small branch and leaf. It looked heavy as everything drooped and bent, straining against the weight of the ice. It was now deadly calm and quiet. All sound except Allen’s muffled voice, “Papa, look the tree broke!” “Yes, it hit the house on the way down,” I added. “The ice killed the tree,” Allen summed up the situation. “Let's go play in the field and build a snowman.”

We crossed the street in front of our house slipping and sliding. We made snow angels and threw snowballs. We tried to make a snowman, and we succeeded in making a very small one. It was the wrong kind of snow for snowmen. Allen giggled with delight for no reason other than pure joy.

The snow began falling again in big flakes spiraling through the air. Allen whirled around and around with his arms outstretched, face turned up mouth open and tongue out laughing. He chased snowflakes catching them on his tongue lapping them up.

Snowflakes are stars that fall from heaven onto your tongue,” he exclaimed. I laughed just watching his silly game. Kids are so fun. Snow brings out joy and the kid in us all.

Plus, as Allen knew, snow meant fun and adventure all day. No school for him, even though he loved it and no work for his parents. There was no such thing as working from home in those days. He would have our attention all day. Not to mention playing in the snow with all his neighborhood friends, Hadley Young and Sean McGillicuddy.

Our neighborhood had no power lines as they were all buried underground. But our neighborhood was an exception, all the neighborhoods around us had power lines stretched on poles.

“Allen, did you hear that explosion,” I asked. “Explosion!” “Yes,” listen.

In the distance I heard a bang. It was a muffled bang. But a bang, nonetheless. It was a particular kind of bang: the sound of an electric transformer exploding when the power cable running into it is violently pulled out. I unfortunately knew that sound too well.

He stopped in his tracks, nothing like an explosion to get a 5-year old's attention. A second explosion. Then in rapid succession 3, 4, 5 loud bangs. Some close and others farther away. The ice was too heavy for the tree limbs and power cables. They all started to break and fall. Suddenly there were about 15 minutes of steady explosions all around us.

“Papa is that dynamite,” Allen watched cartoons where dynamite was a common theme. “No, that is the sound of a blackout,” I said glancing back at the houses across the street. The porch lights were dark. Allen and I played in the snow for an hour or more. Kids ran out and joined us in the fun.

Allen got his adventure. Almost the entire city of Charlotte lost power in the ice storm. Charlotte’s mayor Pat McCory’s, house was dark for two weeks. We lost our power for four days. The junior college where I taught never lost power, so on the third day we spent the day in a classroom being warm. On the afternoon of the 4th day our friends the Halls joined us at Ed's Tavern with their daughter Madison.

Ed’s Tavern had regained power. The server came up to get our drink order. “Bring beer until the power comes back on at our house,” I laughed out my order. I was laughing but not joking. The temperature hovered in the high 20s, and our home was very cold. We had a gas fireplace and hot water heater, so we could take hot showers and warm the house a little. I began to understand how the pioneers in the 18th century felt. I understand the value of a bed warmer now.

We stayed at Ed's Tavern until the kids were exhausted. As we turned into our neighborhood the first house’s outside porch light shone like a beacon! “We have power,” Maura yelled. We cheered and clapped. The Hall’s had to wait one more day in the cold.

We all went to sleep. A warm bed never felt so good! 


Wednesday, November 27, 2024

Merry Christmas from the Bosbyshells!


MERRY CHRISTMAS

from Wil & Maura Bosbyshell



Dear Family and Friends:

2024 was an exciting year for the Bosbyshells. To quote Charles Dickens from A Tale of Two Cities, “It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.”

Let's begin with the best! Our son, Allen, married Ember Aiken on November 16th! They became engaged on Tybee Island near Savannah in January at the same place where Ember's parents were engaged. It was wonderfully good fortune that Ember was able to spend Christmas of 2023 with Allen’s grandmother Caroline Bosbyshell.

Ember and Allen live in Midtown, Atlanta. Ember is a yoga influencer; you can take one of her yoga challenges by following her on Instagram @JourneytoLeisure. Allen works for the State of Georgia financing public housing and manages several Airbnbs. They love to travel and honeymooned in Hawaii, after a small marriage ceremony in Todos Santos, Mexico. Their wedding registry is at Registry/williamandchantel2024. Cheers to our new daughter-in-law!

Maura and I are now full-time professional artists. I concluded a 20+ year career of teaching Art & Design at local junior colleges. Maura wrapped up her data science contracts to concentrate on textile design for fabric and wallpaper. Visit her design site: Bosbyshell Art and Home. Maura and I both have studios in the North Davidson Arts District of Charlotte. 

This past spring, my Climate Conversation: the Language of Trees solo exhibition of drawings was a great success despite hurtles including the collapse of the Charlotte Art League, the exhibit venue and my studio. You can see the Memory Tree poster on his website: Bosbyshell Art Studio. The Climate Conversation exhibit will travel to New Yok state in 2025 for an installation and exhibit at St. Bonaventure College.

We spent most of May in Provence, France. I took an art class in the small town of San Raphael on the Mediterranean Sea while Maura explored Provence. We then traveled to Gordes, Nice, Arles, Avignon, and Nimes. Our favorite town was Vaison-la-Romaine with its extensive Roman ruins and museum.

Sadly, in April, my mother Caroline Thomas Bosbyshell died of a stroke at the age of 90. She lived an incredible life. She was one of Jack Bogles’ secretaries at Vanguard and grew up on Indian Rocks Beach during World War II when German submarines lurked offshore. She was a gregarious guiding light to all who encountered her. She will be buried at Bonaventure Cemetery in January of 2025. We all missed her terribly. Maura and I have now lost all our parents. My father, Bill Bosbyshell, died in 2019. Maura’s parents, John and Helen Kelly, died in 2018 and 2019, respectively at ages 91 and 93.

We were so fortunate and blessed to have our parents in our lives for so long. They all had wonderful relationships with their grandchildren, including our son Allen.

We loved all the visitors we hosted in Charlotte over the year. All are welcome at the Bosbyshell home.

May the love of God shine upon you and your family this Christmas and into 2025.

With love, yours:

Wil & Maura Bosbyshell

Caroline Bosbyshell


Caroline on her wedding day.


Climate Conversation Exhibit, note ceilings are 25 feet tall. 


Maura walks the Coliseum in Arles, France.


Midnight Sun Series of prints will be on display in 2025. 


Plaza in Todos Santo, Baha Mexico, the city was the site of Allen's and Ember's wedding. 



Wil in the Roman Museum in Vaison la Romaine, France. 

Drawing 20 in Wil's Tree series on the climate.


Both families gather before the wedding!


Pre-wedding yoga relaxation session. We needed it! 

Desert Beauty

Maura and Wil before the wedding. 

Cousins. 

Allen and his life long friend from day care. 

Wedding at the golden hour! 



Below are three of Maura's Wallpaper designs! 
Some are based on Wil's art; others are her unique creations. 

Crab Scatter - Tropical Pink

 Blossoms - Dark Teal

Hibiscus - Cameo Sage





 

 

 


Tuesday, December 19, 2023

Merry Christmas from the Bosbyshells


Merry Christmas from the Bosbyshells

2023 is almost in the books, so here are a few updates and thoughts from Maura and Wil.


Wil and Maura are now both full-time artists. Maura launched her own brand, Bosbyshell Art + Home with designs for home décor. Wil had his first museum exhibition at the Contemporary Art Museum of Raleigh. 


Maura curated her first exhibit: Abundance Now featuring nine Charlotte artists. Wil exhibited his hiking drawings in December; and he teaches two art classes each semester at a community college. 


We both exhibit our work at the Sautee Inn in North Georgia and were lucky to spent many days there with Atlanta friends. 


My mother, Caroline Bosbyshell, turned 90 in July and we threw a big bash for her in St. Petersburg, Florida. Nearly 100 people came to celebrate her; it was wonderful to see so many friends and family. 


Muara and Wil spent a lot of time trying to keep up with our son Allen. He bought a car and drove across the lower part of the country from North Carolina to California. He saw family and friends along the way, and hit his friend’s bachelor party in Las Vegas on his way back. He moved from Chicago to Atlanta. We will miss visiting him in Chicago, a city we adore. But we love seeing all our friends and family in Atlanta. 


Take care of yourself and the people you love! To miss-quote Michael Stipe, “The special things fade away, replaced by every day.”


Happy New Year!
Your Friends, Wil & Maura Bosbyshell


Wil: Mbosbyshell@aol.com
Maura: mbosbyshell@gmail.com  
Wil cell: 704.458.0600