The blackout was a pain in the ass, I assure those of you lucky to have missed it.
In the first hours of it, my thoughts were of heat and sheer annoyance. Totally ruined the ending of a nearly perfect "Esmay Family Day".
Because Dean and I both work full-time, opposite shifts, we rarely spend quality time together. We chose opposite shifts so that our son wouldn't have to go to summer camp or be stuck somewhere away from home and friends through summer. It wouldn't be fair to him. This way one of us is always with him.
Once a week, every week, we have "family day". A day that both Dean and I are off work together and we have fun just the three of us. We always spend the entire day, from breakfast to bedtime, together. This special Thursday we went to Lake Erie Metro Park for "surfing". The "Great Wave", a wave-action pool, adds three-foot rollicking waves for wet summer fun. I packed a picnic and we went off for wave riding on our tubes and rafts. Spent a beautiful and hot 3 hours "surfing". Changed and had a lovely picnic, in the shade, overlooking Lake Erie. It was awesome. We were getting ready to leave when all the power went out. They announced on the loudspeaker - "All power is out from Detroit to Monroe. The whole downriver area has lost power". Man it sucks to be them we thought and left to make the 30 minute drive back home.
Two hours later, we arrived home to hear the full extent of it. Not happy. Not going out to our favorite restaurant/bar. No foo-foo martinis for Mom, no Bass Ale for Dad and no Golden Tee 2003 for Jake. The kid loves golf. Nope, "Esmay Family Day" had crash landed into a reality of shit.
At first we were just annoyed. No getting online, no news, no cartoons and no A/C. Then we were concerned. No ice left in the blasted city and no water either. We still had water in the house but we were the few and apparantly the lucky. No idea how long the water was gonna last and either way we had to boil anything we consumed - yeah, let's make the house HOTTER.
By midnight, I was sweltering because I had the house closed up. I was now worried about the $200 worth of groceries in my fridge/freezer. We lived off the remainder of our earlier mentioned picnic - thank GOD I'm like my mother and I overcook and over pack. We never had to open the fridge. But I decided to save what I could by moving as much out of the fridge and into the freezer before my candles were totally finished.
Then I said to myself, since I was the lone person still awake, "To hell with the riots/looting, gunshots and possible wildlife getting in the house". I opened the doors - wide open. I propped the front open like I would if I were carrying in groceries. I put up the child-gate to keep out the possible raccoons, skunks and God knows what else. I grabbed Mr. Mossberg, lit a Marlboro and settled in my favorite chair wearing nothing more tha a very cute little black bra, a fake American Flag tattoo on my upper arm and blue jean shorts. I enjoyed my smoke and resigned myself to getting an uncomfortable sleep in a balmy 85 degree living room.
Our power came back around 1 p.m. Friday afternoon. Our internet was down until evening, sadly.
We lost the standard food stuff nothing major. Nothing heartbreaking.
We will still be boiling our water till Wednesday, that is the estimate. I am more thankful than many, I'm sure.
All in all it wasn't so bad. I know it could have been so much worse. And for that I am truly, truly thankful.
There is something undeniably romantic about being forced to read a good book by candlelight. Don't get me wrong, I know it'd get real old, real fast, especially when the scrapple in the fridge starts to howl.
But there are advantages to being without power - if only for a short time. There was a time when we were a nation of front-porch communities. In the warm summer months, you'd sit on the front porch and everyone else on their own front porches's know who you were, and you'd form bonds. When the house is opened up, you are aware of and in contact with the neighbors around you. When one becomes accustomed to closing up when the temperature reaches 73 degrees, isolation sets in. The front porch time between winter and summer is sadly short.
Now, of course, we have our computers to keep us in touch when our doors and windows are locked tight. And that's a very good thing. Still, one can't help but feel nostalgic...
I did read a book by candlelight that night. It was nice actually. I was less concerned about missing T.V and the internet because the book kept me highly entertained. As time wore on, I became more concerned about my groceries dying than the rest.
Thanks in large part to Nora Roberts.
Damn, Rose... You in nothing but "very cute little black bra, a fake American Flag tattoo on my upper arm and blue jean shorts," smoking a cig while cradling Mr. Mossberg.
I'd pay money for that poster! Heh.
Casey:
It'd be worth every damn penny - I assure you!