Disaster

Just a quick sidebar (before the answers to the quiz) because I had an epiphany over the weekend.  Why?  The storm that moved across the country on Friday slammed into us in the night, literally.  Trees, power lines, branches, and anything that wasn't locked down flew around like paper cups in front of a wave up a beach, killing several people in our area and scaring the crap out of everyone else.  Seriously, I thought our entire house was going to be air surfing into the river, dragging us along with it.  But thanks to both our abilities to set aside panic in a crisis (the Big Lug's much more than mine this time) and my husband's incredibly hard work, we rode it out without loss of life, limb or property.

So what the post?  We had no power, no TV, and no phones (even cell stuff was seriously effed up) - and since our pump is electric (and a sewer injector) my kitchen sink had a bucket in it so I could use it ... then empty it into the garden.  We had 100 degree temps during the day on Saturday and Sunday so meals involved sniffing and even tasting to decide what was going bad fastest so we'd eat it soonest.  Sleeping was fitful and wet ... and very, very dark.  Travel was difficult and futile since nothing nearby was open.  Walking was (maybe) for early in the morning.  Bathing was twice a day.

And I loved it.

I hadn't noticed how much water I waste until I was collecting it.  I hadn't considered how much of my day revolved around TV (even as I bitched I was so busy).  I hadn't realized how many lights I turned on out of habit during a day.  I didn't remember how much I missed ... camping.

Or something like it.  We weren't completely roughing it - we had clean water, and (since we're natural gas) we had a stovetop and no cold showers.  Also, since we bought a generator years ago (but never used it before) we didn't have to bail the sump area for long, nor did we lose the chest freezer full of food (though the fridge, upstairs, was doomed).  I washed every dish by hand, I spent the mornings working (slower) on clearing & cataloging for the sale and reading in the living room lit only by the sun, then late afternoons in the basement (where it's much cooler) being quiet (it's also darker) and going through some storage (when I could see it), then the nights reading on my iPad because I had no other light and it was too bloody hot to sleep (damn that battery lasts forever).  My husband and I spent many wonderful hours just ... talking, holding hands, working together, being together.  It was amazing.  I was almost sad that the power came back on.

Why?  I loved sweating out the toxins and letting my brain go quiet and playing MacGuyver with every meal and having no clients or family or telemarketers calling.  I adored actually feeling the air, listening to the earth, meeting my neighbors (many for the first time) as we walked around (in the mornings) to assess the damage and get our blood pumping.  I revered all of the slower, and silent, and grateful thoughts that I was finally able to think without all the chatter from all the "civilized" bits of our world that we surround ourselves with every single day.

So now I'm writing this by the light of the sun alone.  My a/c is cranked up to 80 and I have a floor fan taking up the slack.  I still have the bucket in my sink (my trees get the water) and I plan to install rain barrels at the first opportunity.  My refrigerator is spotless, and neither of us got food poisoning.  And though I didn't get as much done as I'd liked (because I am too old to push it in the house-turned-oven) I have new determination to clear down to the bone so we won't bump around like pinballs in the dark if this happens again.

Not a single complaint from either of us, for two whole days that most people around here refer to as "hell."  A new appreciation for the simple.  Memories of happy times "making do."  And a renewed faith in myself and in the remarkable man I married.

Good God, I can't think of anything that's more worthy of the name "treasure" than this.