Wednesday, October 04, 2006


To borrow from the email I just sent to Clare, "This past 36 hours has been just a little more interesting than it needed to be."

It was all very dramatic. Lightening flashed. Thunder rumbled. Something went "fwoomp," (fwoomp!?) and the lights went out. This is not good. We are city people. Even when the lights in our home are turned off, there's light. Streetlights. Security lights. Parking lot lights. This darkness is absolute, thick, and uncompromising.

Stumbling and fumbling, (why does the dark make me so clumsy?) I found where I left the matches when we lit birthday candles on Saturday. A stubbed toe and a crushed Lego got me over to the candles.

And where are all my flashlights? I must have scores, somewhere. I buy a couple every time there's a black-out, and every time the lights go out, they're gone. Aren't they a little big for the Borrowers?

The rest of the night was a candle-lit vigil in the old recliner in the boys room. John was reasonably philosophical about the lack of light, since it's dark when he closes his eyes anyway. Marco was not philosophical at all. I swear he could hear the candle being snuffed in his sleep. He woke up every time. And I was not going to leave a candle burning in their room. I admit, I gave up around 5 A.M., put out the candle, and went to spend an hour and a half in a real bed. Old recliners are not as comfortable as they should be.

Electricity or no electricity, life goes on. Marco made it onto his school bus, with many reassurances that the power would come back on. John, after some hopeful speculation that his school might be without power, too, got off to Latin class. I loaded the dishwasher and discovered our hot water heater is electric. After a bit, as the lack of electricity continued, I had the Austen-ian experience of washing my hair over the sink with pails of water warmed with water boiled in the tea kettle (no, it really couldn't wait.)

As the hours passed, I took a trip out for ice. The drive through the neighborhood was downright unnerving.

Remember the Sesame Street routine with Bill Irwin, "Can air move things?" Indeed.

It was 27 hours before power was restored around 4 A.M. today.

I leave you with knitting by candle-light.

And how Marco got to sleep last night. (Yes, I have bought more flashlights.)

And that had better not be thunder in the distance.

1 comment:

diane h said...

I thought surely you had power, being in the influential 4th Ward. Our electricity seems to have come on about 12:30 this morning, doing a bit of math with the flashing clock and the wristwatch. This was not as fun as camping. And you have much nicer candlesticks than I do -