I found myself without power last night. It was just before nine pm and the lights flashed, TV went off. Then a few seconds later the lights came back on amidst beeps and clicks as the house came alive again. Flicker the lights are out, on for a second then off again.
I sat for a couple of minutes waiting for the lights to come back on again. Feeling a little disappointed for the first time that evening, that I wouldn't see if oh-so-handsome whoseyding and very-pretty-whatshername would ever get past their false assumptions and miscommunications and become the star destined couple they were meant to be. But it was a Hallmark movie so it's a solid bet that they did, with style, beautiful Christmas trimmings, flawless smiles and lovely music.
The thing that struck me most was the silence. It was completely silent. Inside and out. No sirens, no cars, complete and utter silence and darkness.
I finally realized this wasn't a quick outage and used my phone to light my way to my little basket which holds my ever handy head lamp. They call it stylish. It doesn't give me any cat walk confidence. Maybe it's just the way my hair bunches up into a Herman Munster square head. Or the fact that when I look at myself in the mirror my brows are pushed down and my eyes seem to cross a little...but it has lit the way when I have walked George! at night. Those few times I have remembered to use it.
I lit my light, got my one, almost done Yankee Candle in my favorite scent, Wild Sea Grass. Also lit my small tea-light dragonfly candle holder. With my headlamp facing the ceiling, and the two candles lit beside me, I was pretty comfortable. For a little bit.
I reached out to a friend a block up to see if it was just my street. No, it went up at least to the next block. She had received a robocall from Duke Energy that the power would be on at 11. It was just after 9 pm.
My new neighbor across the street called. It was about 10 by now. She wanted to know if I had power because my window candles were still lit and my Christmas swag on my porch was still lit (answer — batteries). We spoke for a while. I told her about my fabulous headlamp. Recommended it as a convenient light incase the lights go out. It's a hands free tool.
I asked her about her new puppy...puppies and dogs went to the differences between dogs and cats. She mentioned her uncle's cat would bring presents to the door. Cats bring presents, dogs just want to hang with you.
It brought up my memories, which I shared with her, of Cheshire, my tortoiseshell cat. Chess, Chester-bunny, the buns, bunny-hop. The buns brought me two spectacular gifts. The first was one Saturday morning. I was dozing and felt a puff on the pillow behind my head. Ha, I thought the buns is here, lying on my pillow. I rolled over to say hello and was eye to eye with ... a dead bunny. Yup lying on my pillow was a dead bunny that was half the size of my wee cat. I jumped up and was speechless.
The buns was so happy. She strolled and curled around my legs as I stared at the rabbit waiting for it to move. I have a deep fear of reanimation. I will jump a mile and cross the street if I see an abandoned dead mouse on the sidewalk; because any minute it could reanimate and run up my leg to my shoulder to my head. It's my phobia.
I was renting a room in a farmhouse. I had two roommates. Melissa! MELISSA!! — She was the other room renter. She came in saw the rabbit and praised Cheshire. She was smiling and said, 'look how proud she is.' Me thinking, 'look how freaked out I am.' Melissa took the bunny out.
The next time, again I was just waking up, and William "Bill" Shakespeare, my 2nd cat, was at the foot of the futon. Completely focused. Focused, tense and ready to pounce. I looked up and Chester was sitting on my desk staring at him. He was stalking something. I saw he was stalking, and thought it must be a great toy. I lay down again and suddenly something ran from my ankle up the length of my body to my arm pit, inside my duvet. Yaaaaaaiiii!! Prone to standing in a split second. No one has ever moved faster.
Bill was clearly disappointed, Cheshire was either amused or intrigued... I couldn't quite tell. This time I was home alone. I took the duvet outside very carefully and flipped it inside out and there was... a live ... lizard.
After I shared these two stories my new neighbor brought up snakes. She hates snakes, I'm okay with snakes they don't move so fast, the snakes I had met. Spiders. Yes, spiders — going right toward you head. I know they are always moving towards your head I said. Mice... yikes! Or when there is a hair on your arm...you don't realize what it is. On and on we went.
Suddenly I laughed...Why? Why when we were sitting in our respective dark cold houses, in the small flickering lights, no heat, no human companions, we were talking about the things that give us the extreme willies!?! She said "it's like sitting around a campfire telling ghost stories..." Why? Why do we do these things? Human nature?
I don't know. Maybe there is safety in numbers. Having someone on the other end of the line to share fears to show how fearless we can be when we have a pack to belong to. We hung up talking about how cold the houses had become and I watched as 11 came and went.
I took George! for a walk. Set the red light on my headlamp and looked at the crystal clear sky. It is the coldest it has been since last winter. 24 degrees, earlier it had been -8 with the wind chill.
I left Geo with his coat on, loosened the belly belt and put a down blanket on him, filled my hot water bottle and wrapped myself in a blanket. I decided the best book to read at that moment was Laura Ingalls Wilder - Little House in the Big Woods...it was an appropriate choice.
No spiders in the vicinity that I could see in the flickering light, cat at my feet and another two hours without electricity. It came on around 1:15 and my room was flooded with light and sound. I couldn't help but feel my second round of disappointment as the silence disappeared.
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