I came home for winter break on Wednesday. On Friday, for the first time in my life, my house lost power. It was warm out—mid-fifties—and raining, and apparently quite windy, because I woke up to a powerless house.
It was fun in the beginning. I went into the cold, unfinished basement and put in an hour of work on the rowing machine my coach let me borrow for break. I came upstairs and spread peanut butter on untoasted bread. My computer was charged, and my phone plan includes a generous hot spot, so I was able to see my therapist, as scheduled. For lunch, I lit the stove with a lighter to cook pasta. Despite the clouds, there was enough natural lighting for me to see my way around.
When the rain slowed, I ran around with the puppy while talking to my brother on the phone. I love the sound of rain on my raincoat. The puppy now weighs a whopping 3 pounds and 12 ounces, and she is adorable.
Then the sun went down. I lit a candle on my desk and dug out my broken headlamp, which turns on just fine but flops against my forehead. I played guitar in my dimly-lit bedroom, then sat in the dark with my mom and talked. It felt like I was on a sleepover.
My only concern was my limited-edition NadaMoo peppermint bark ice cream. I couldn’t get my hands on it last year, so I snatched it this year, and it was suffering in my freezer during the first power outage in thirty years. I should’ve treated myself to an ice cream feast, but I wanted to keep the freezer closed as long as possible.
The outage lasted overnight, and temperatures dropped. I slept in sweatpants and a sweatshirt (which wasn’t unusual, because even with power, my house is cold). We left ice packs outside and popped them in the freezer the next morning. I did another workout in the dark, and as I was eating my peppermint ice cream soup for breakfast, the power came back on. It was too late for my ice cream, but just in time for everything else.
This post’s puppy pic