A storm blew through here Friday that didn’t seem as bad as some this Spring but apparently packed some 80 mph winds. Driving into the neighborhood on the way home there were 8-foot tree branches in the road, and later, after dinner, our power went out.
Previously I’ve thought how woefully unprepared we are for being temporarily off the grid, particularly in winter. We don’t have a wood-burning anything inside the house and the gas fireplace turns on with a switch. But we did just fine for summer. Within minutes we had a variety of candles going in the windowless bathroom where my son was in the bath. And tea lights and candles in the kitchen and sun porch. We read bedtime stories by flashlight, but mostly the outage made us sit in our sun porch and watch the storm and clouds pass over.
An old friend of mine and I have a standing joke about weather. He was moving back to California from Washington and Boston because he was tired of the weather interfering with his planned activities. And I was moving away — first to Tucson, then Denver, now here — for the opposite reason. I typically close notes to him with “I hope the weather isn’t interfering with your plans,” and he typically writes to me that he hopes it will. Friday and Saturday, for 21 hours, we got that wish.