Tuesday, January 8, 2013

to conversation

My mother measures the severity of winter storms by the number of deck boards wet with rain. Today was a seven board storm.
The wind blew the rain sideways and kept the windows streaked; washed by icy streams and waves.
It shouldn't have been a surprise when the power went out with a thunk.
In days of yore, in our Walnut Grove days, the power was linked so closely to the rising wind, that power outages were accepted as part of a natural chain of events. I had a bin of candles and flashlights always at the ready.
We've grown lax here, and so the rising wind failed to alert me to impending darkness.
For a shocking moment, life seemed to grind to a halt.
I regretted not starting supper earlier.
I regretted that the kettle was cold and empty.
Tea would be good.
A nice cup of tea.
Steaming hot tea.
We consoled ourselves by snacking on a handful of tiny mandarins, sweetly cold.
We discussed the changes we would make to our house if money were hurled against our windows like the rain......
I considered cedar shingles, silvered by the weather as siding.
My husband knocked out a wall and moved cupboards.
We pondered insulation and fireplaces.
The room took on a cozy glow of pleasant conversation.
With a beep and whirr, the power was on.
I sprinted to the kitchen and turned on the kettle.
Supper preparations began in a flurry.
My husband began to reset clocks and computers.
I savored my hot supper and my steaming cup of tea but the unexpected darkness was a treat too; a catalyst to conversation.

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