A blessing and a curse

Electricity, that is.


Yesterday we were visited by a winter storm.  (I guess you could say we were gently bumped, since we weren't really hit.)  It started as rain, complete with thunder (in January???), and turned to snow in the afternoon -- big, fat, heavy flakes of very wet snow.  So, naturally, some tree branch somewhere broke under the weight of all of it and knocked a power line down...  just as it was time for me to make dinner.  Because it was such a gray day, we had to light candles to keep the house from feeling like a cave.  While scrambling around for supplies, I realized that while we had a little bit of Sterno left over from the last time we made s'mores, we didn't have any soup to heat in our fondue pot.  (What a godsend that wedding shower gift turned out to be!)  Mr. Pickles (who was released from work early) bravely ran to the store to collect emergency items, like hot chocolate and de-icer.  Just as he returned, the power came on.  We decided to eat dinner by candlelight anyway.  It was a relief being able to turn the lights on and off at will.

Then as we were putting the kids to bed, the lights went out again.  I was grateful that I had finished washing and drying the diapers earlier!  By this time the ground was covered in a thick white blanket of snow, which is amazingly reflective stuff.  So the kids wouldn't panic, we opened their curtains to let in the light from outside.  I think it was actually brighter in their rooms than it normally is with a nightlight.  There is a shopping center just beyond the crest of the hill behind our neighborhood, and their power hadn't shut off.  The lights from the parking lots shone into the night sky, reflecting off the clouds which still hung low overhead, and then were scattered everywhere by the whiteness of the new snow.  It was beautiful.  Light was coming from everywhere all at once.  I just stood at my children's windows and stared into the night.  Even though I could not see a single light coming from anywhere in our neighborhood -- not even street lights -- it was so bright you could have read outside.  I'm kicking myself now that I didn't try to take a picture.

The kids had a great time.  All they saw was the fun -- getting to do normal things in a totally new way.  And they love their flashlights. (Joseph was cuddling his like a baby.)  I saw trying to feed everyone with no power.  We had cereal and milk for breakfast at least, but that would mean opening the fridge.  I saw all our food spoiling after we'd drained our grocery budget for the month.  I saw no oven and therefore no fresh bread; no stovetop and therefore no hot meals.  I saw no hot water, no showers.  No laundry.  I saw us running out of candles.  I saw our house gradually getting colder and colder.  We have a fireplace, but it is very small.  I certainly can't cook over it (toasting marshmallows doesn't count).

Mr. Pickles and I lit a log to warm up our freezing basement, and then after a while went to bed in the whiteness of the night.  I woke up during the night to care for the baby -- it was still dark in the house.  I began to worry how long it would be before our power was restored.  I wished we had a wood-burning stove -- or a bigger fireplace -- so I could at least cook and heat water for washing.  Many things I could do without in a pinch, but this blackout made me feel so helpless and out of control -- so very unlike Ma Ingalls, who could make a lamp out of axle grease, a square of calico, and a button.

The power finally came back on around 3,  and we were awakened by all the lights we had left on before we went to bed and all the noises that instantly filled the house: the fridge, the furnace, the dishwasher.  (It's amazing there wasn't a second blackout from all the appliances that I'm sure suddenly turned on in our neighborhood.)  It was such a relief, but I still wondered if it would happen again soon.  It certainly got me thinking about ways to be better prepared for emergency situations.  It also brought home how incredibly spoiled I am -- so many things are done for me that I don't even have to think about them.  Like heating water, or keeping my home warm.  I am so very, very dependent upon modern conveniences, like indoor plumbing and electricity, that a 6-hour blackout totally throws me for a loop.  I'm such a control freak that I don't like this feeling of utter dependence -- I feel like I can't take care of my family if one little thing goes wrong.

That's it, our next house is going to have a HUGE fireplace in the living room -- with a hook for hanging the kettle.  Because I can live without many things in a pinch, but NOT TEA.