I just received power back to my house today after a week of being without, due to the lovely Hurricane Gustav. Some of you may be disappointed that I have no sob story to tell and that in fact I had a great time. My experience is not the type that typically makes the evening news, but that doesn't mean that my experience was atypical. Being the writer that I am, I jotted down notes from time to time about how all was going. Without much revision, I now share these jottings with you.
Tuesday, Sept. 2nd (the day after the storm)
My friend Mary cracks me up. She broke out the margaritas at 3 o'clock today. The drinks come out earlier and earlier as waiting out the storm continues.
Yesterday it was 6 o'clock with Rum & Coke while we were playing Rummy 500. The day before, it was around 8pm with mudslides as we revised my story -- the upcoming one, called "Twenty Five". She read it out loud while my aunt and I listened and laughed and joked around. Mary particularly liked that line -- His skin is copper and glistening. It has the allure of a freshly minted penny, shiny and new. She read it about six times in a row. That was the most fun I ever had revising a story.
So it all began on Saturday. The people came over. We had hamburgers and talked. I have a decent sized house so even with 5 adults and 8 kids, we didn't feel crowded. the kids ate at the kitchen while the adults ate at the dining table. The kids played in the living room while the adults talked in the sitting room.
The power went out Monday afternoon. the kids got out Legos and blocks and card games. the adults played cards and Boggle, and Scrabble. I'm a whiz with word games to I clobbered Mary and my aunt at those. They would come up with 15 Boggle words while I had 36. Eventually, at the end of every game, they would just tell me to read my list since I always had the most words anyway. The Scrabble games were actually pretty close. I beat the others by a margin of only twenty something points rather than the usual fifty or seventy five.
As the evening drew on last night, the kerosene lamps were lit. The windows were open -- no rain. But windy. The sheer curtains billowed regularly. The only sound outside was the surrounding generators. We do not have a generator yet, but we got one on it's way from a relative coming through from Houston. It annoyed me that even in an event as serious as this -- with trees down and shingles torn off -- with my aunt worrying if she'll have a house to go home to and my friend worrying about her telephone company worker husband who had to stay behind -- it annoyed me that even then, we could not experience the sacredness of dark and quiet.
I wanted to appreciate the absence of electricity. I wanted to honor the momentary fear and loss. Yet the generators persisted, resistant to allow a moment of gratitude for all we take for granted. I think it's good to do without once in awhile. It's good to retreat from your normal routine of daily life. To just step back and realize life ain't so bad after all. That really, we should get together with our friends more often, play cares more often, drink more often, stay up late and tell secrets more often.
As I sat alone by the kerosene lamplight, I was transported into times past. I thought about Little House on the Prairie episodes. About World War II blackouts. About Jews hiding from German Nazis. I was grateful that this solemnity was temporary. That I did not need to listen for traveling outlaws or bomber airplanes or soldiers knocking on the door. I was grateful that all my food was still cold and that my main discomfort was the humidity and heat of the night.
After pondering my life by the flicker of the flame -- after the kids were all asleep, Mary came along offering me another Rum & Coke. We talked about our husbands and, well, things we do with our husbands, and, um, things we like for them to do to us. There was lots of giggling and whispering going on. Almost like a junior high sleep over. It was fun.
Yes, the wind and the rain had been bad. Yes, there had been some damage to our houses. Yes, the electricity was out and the night was hot and humid. But our families were safe and we would soon return to our husbands and there would certainly be more to talk about next time.
Wednesday
It is dusk. Again. Still no power. This is the longest I've gone without electricity without the intention of camping or what not.
Spirits are still high. We're just hot and sweaty, all of us. We managed to hook up the washer today so we could run a couple loads of laundry. We hung the clothes out to dry, running some string between the swing set and our neighbor's fence -- the side that wasn't blown down. The clothes aren't drying much though 'cause the air is so damp.
Mary handed out fuzzy navels with a splash of pineapple juice today around 3 o'clock. My aunt and I welcomed them as part of the hour of Divine Mercy.
The kids are still doing well. They miss TV and computer games. But they enjoy the outdoors. The swings, the trampoline, the kiddy pool, the slip and slide. They are tired and hot. They try to switch on the bathroom light. They forget, you know. But they're happy with Legos and fresh Play Dough.
Mary and I went out early this morning for groceries. We, along with every one else in this area, were prepared for a long weekend, but not the entire week. It was strange to see the debris in the streets, all the stop lights out, the produce wilted, the bread shelves bare. No meat available at LeBlanc's. Maybe we'll have better luck at Winn Dixie.
We went to WD and had to stand in line. Only so many people allowed in at a time. I've never stood in line for groceries before. I thought of those stories of Russia -- people waiting hours for bread. I was glad that this was not that at all. We were not bundled up, staving off the sting of the snow, stone faces, gray background, desensitized to the mundane task of waiting for rations. No, we were smiling and friendly, enjoying the return of the birds, making do with whatever was available. Hopeful, not complaining. Just waiting it out, confident that the electric companies would have all up and running maybe by the end of this week.
All the guests in my house came up from Houma -- a city very near the Louisiana coast. I used to live there myself a few years ago. The city is an hour southwest of New Orleans and an hour and a half southwest of here. It's a big small town. Big enough to have several hotels and chain restaurants. But not big enough to be included in the news much.
The news we hear is mostly from Mary's husband who stayed behind for work. Or from phone calls from our Cali relatives who have internet access and keep us updated from the news websites. Everybody is asking everybody what the word is since we can't get it from the radio. The radio announcers talk and talk and talk yet say nothing of importance.
So far, the word is Friday. Come in on Friday during daylight hours. Curfew is between 6am - 8pm. We can't guarantee any electricity or utilities though. And the mosquitos are horrendous. So what's the point of that? Stay here. It might be three days or three weeks for electricity. We have food. We have gas. We have a generator for a few necessary things. And hey -- we got booze!
Friday
The weather chilled off last night, thank God. It was very hot yesterday. I'd never sweat so much while doing nothing. More games of Scrabble and Rummy 500. More Play Dough for the kids. More cooking on the grill.
The drinks came out at 1:30 yesterday. This is getting serious, people. We can't start drinking before noon! But seriously, I'm starting to miss my washing machine. Things are definitely getting uncomfortable.
We still have batteries to hear the lack of news. When we get fed up with that, we play music and dance with the kids. U2 picks up our spirits in the afternoons.
My husband went out yesterday and saw 100-car lines for gas. Luckily we don't need any yet. Lots of people are on the roads today, trying to check on their homes. So I hear there's lots of traffic and closed roads and downed trees and lines for gas.
Mary and I went for a walk this morning. Vacation time is waning. It's time to exercise, to clean up, to organize a back up plan. Houma will most likely be down for a month. We might try arranging the rooms for our guests and some homeschool lessons for the kids. We need to transform this disruption into a part of our routine. Three to five more days for power here. Maybe. I'm hoping the weather stays cool. And dry.
Saturday
Mary got a call late last night. She got power at her house. Still no power here, but it should be coming soon. Mary and her four kids took off around noon after she and I took a walk in the cool, cloudy morning.
I know the clouds keep us cool, but I'm getting a little sick of them. Sick of the grayness outside. Sick of the noisy generators. Sick of the drop-kick Chihuahua roaming around my house. I have a mild headache today and am anxious now for normalcy to resume.
I got to see the stars last night. Beautiful stars. So many of them. Sparkling and brilliant and numerous. I enjoyed them, but the experience was tainted by the incessant drone of the generators all around.
I am thankful for the cool weather. A clean home. Happy kids. Plenty to eat. I am planning on resuming lessons on Monday. I am thankful that this has been great fun and will soon end. Ike is in the Gulf, headed our way. People are worried. Me? I'll say Come on over. We'll teach the kids lessons by kerosene lamp. I usually finish by noon. Then you can make us some drinks while I set up the Scrabble board. There may be a bit of damage to the house. But we'll make the best of it.
Sunday
We came home from church around 1pm and voila! the AC was running. All the windows were open and the AC was running.
Run the dishwasher. Run the clothes washer. Unplug all the cords leading to the generator. It is hot today so we'll close up the house and run the AC. Suck up all the love bugs and the flies. Shoo shoo all of you. Out of my house, you annoying bugs.
Maybe I'll take a hot bath tonight, although I didn't really mind the cold showers. Maybe I'll bake a casserole dish, although I enjoyed cooking on the grill. Maybe I'll watch a movie tonight, although I always love winning at Scrabble.
As it stands, Ike is no longer headed our way. But we got a few days left to really know. Either way, I'll be thankful for what I've got.
