It’s not fun.
Several communities have experienced floods.
We experienced a huge tree taking out a power line at the end of our street.
B O O M !!!
That’s the thunderous noise of a transformer blowing.
As well as sending a huge thank you to the team of dedicated BC Hydro workers who performed a winter storm miracle and got us reconnected, I offer wisdom gleaned through the ordeal of living off the grid for a few hours.
1. I need to invest in a car charger for my cell phone so I can surf the net (and play 2048) the next time a tree blows over. (I had to shut ‘er down before the battery completely died so I’d have some juice left over for the next day.)
2. Don’t wait until you’re out of cookies to bake more. A tender ginger Christmas cookie or three would’ve made the darkness so much less creepy, but my boy took the last one in his lunch that morning. 😦
3. Someone as nervous as me should surround herself with light, laughter and flowers instead of anything even remotely related to Stephen King. After watching Storm of the Century with my sailor last weekend, I was terrified Andre Linoge would come tap, tap, tapping on our door because, you know, bad things always happen when you’re in the dark.
4. A Chihuahua is really easy to trip over in the dark. Enough said.
We were up before dawn to catch the first ferry back to Vancouver Island. My sailor grumbled a bit about the early start, but I was determined to catch the tail end of the Boxing Week sales before everything was picked over. A quick trip to the mall on the way home indicated we needn’t have rushed as all the good stuff was long gone.
After unpacking and starting the first of about five loads of laundry (how do three people and one very small dog generate so much laundry?) we went grocery shopping.
I poked around the holiday section in the grocery store, looking for discount Christmas crackers for next year. It’s always a little sad to see the left-overs and this year was no exception. The shelves were bare except for some beat-up snowman decorations and a flat of Quality Street chocolates. Showing remarkable restraint, I wandered over the greeting card aisle without any candy.
Just around the corner from the marked down Christmas decorations, I found. . . a huge display of Valentine’s cards along with several lurid hot pink signs warning me to get my gift and card by February 14.
When did the world start moving so fast that we’re bombarded with stuff we need to buy for the next holiday before we’ve even finished celebrating the current one? Come to think of it, when did Valentine’s Day become a gift-giving occasion and not just an excuse to say extra mushy things to your partner?
I consider the week between Christmas and New Year’s to be part of the whole Christmas experience. Once all the Christmas stuff is sold/taken down, I think we all need a little down time before we’re exposed to the next holiday merchandise blitz.
I’ve noticed a funny thing happening during our weekly conversations. I’m not complaining as much as usual. It’s certainly not because I’m happier than normal so what’s the deal? For years our relationship dynamic has been me analyzing everything and whining about most aspects of my life while my sailor talks me down from the mild levels of anxiety that seem to be my norm.
I’m still complaining–a quick read through previous posts confirms this–just not to my sailor. Instead we’ve been reminiscing about past events (like the two naughty dogs that ate our wedding cake) and planning things we’ll do when he returns. It feels good to be positive and upbeat.
Will this be a permanent change? Probably not. I’ve been a glass half empty kind of girl too long to switch at this point.
Another positive event: I had the opportunity to visit the West Coast of Vancouver Island this week.
I couldn’t take many photos because it was raining and I don’t think my iphone is waterproof. Long Beach isn’t a place that can be captured by a cell phone camera, anyway. It’s too big, too elemental for that.
A visit to this beach is a multi-sensory experience. The surf actually roars–so loud, it’s difficult to have a conversation here during the wild winter months. The air is heavy with humidity and the battleship grey water stretches over the horizon.
It’s a good place to think because stale old thoughts are almost literally blasted away by the stiff breeze.
Maybe I am turning over a new leaf. The old me would have worried about cougars and bears prowling the sand looking for lunch and moaned about my frizzy hair.