The Blizzard, blowing level past, sucked the power out of our homes, 30,000 homes according to reports on the battery operated radio. Why would the storm take all the power? — it had more than enough already.
Modern woman, once so proud, tries to cope. Pen-in-hand, she enumerates her blessings:
1. Pen. Cursive writing. Daylight’s come. I can switch off the (2.) battery-powered light while working the pen across the (3.) page.
That lists three blessings (at least). I should count daylight but it’s been so dependable throughout my particular life, whereas paper and pen and power… not always. Should I take daylight for granted? A blessing? Yes, even though granted (so far).
We were a bit unconsciously prepared for blizzard-sucking power outages. But I must think also of those without. Without the current many would not have heat. Maybe a prayer for them?
We burn solely wood to keep warm. I used the little battery light so I could see to make the fire in the dark this a.m.. It was not cold enough for the propane basement heater that keeps pipes from freezing (at under 10°F) . That 21° we have is a blessing because the heater doesn’t work without AC. (Alternating current.) So wood-stove and firewood — blessings.
While starting coffee before starting the fire-making, more blessings: we have a giant plastic jug of well water in the power-sucked fridge. This reservoir serves two purposes. a. Helping keep the powerless refrigerator cold, thus preserving food inside, meat, dairy, etc.. (These are blessings, too, my pen remembers). b. Drinking water, coffee-making water, tea. We refill this giant jug each spring and fall. In between if it’s been used for emergencies we fill then, too. (Seasons — another blessing — not a sub-blessing.)
Sunlight drapes the hilltop yonder — yes, I still use that delightful word. (Yonder.) A black-and-white checked woodpecker (modern female) pecks away at peanut butter and suet in the feeder outside the window.
I should give up. There are too many blessings to write out!
But… I can’t leave out THE SNOW itself. That snow on the railing! Yes!
I had to wash my hands on waking and found fresh snow out the door all over the porch — perfect freshness absolute! What a feeling! Scrubbing hands with the pure-fresh culprit responsible for all this lack of (AC) power.
Remember, you can’t pump water, use the faucet without that current. I’m praying now for those linemen who went out in A BLIZZARD to repair line. They are still at it. I know because I’m still using my pen, drinking dregs of coffee not exactly well-made without the electric coffee maker.
But clean hands!
There is that problem about the toilet, the pump, the water for the flush. We have no backup generator. However. If things get really sucked, we have–
It’s above the toilet, connected to the gravity-feed dug well. Needing procedures such as a draining the well line, and priming to get it going. (We’ve used it once before.)
OK. So seven days till calendar spring. Another blessing, nice.
And how about….
SNOWSHOEING! — new fifteen inches! Blessing, check — only half as much as some places in the Northeast but plenty for our purpose.
We haven’t been able to shoe for over a week owing to ICE. Hardened iciness. Two feet deep.
Now R. is talking about digging out the car. So. All these blessings from the power-suck, and at least one curse. The power has been out for 11 hours and counting, he tells me now.
Pen, you can stop now. Let the holder go eat the breakfast she cooked lighting the gas burner with a match. Modern woman.
For thou, O Lord, only make me to dwell safely (and well).
One can find out more about living here by sampling The God’s Cycle. Late twentieth century Gottheim. There are various books in the series for sampling.
Blackout lasted less than 24 hours.
Last report? Another storm on its way.