Brr … Snow …
Just as the week of insane storms finishes we get snow.
Gack.
And of course as soon as it snows all the electricity goes off for miles around.
Ah, village life.
Actually, it was nice. All the streetlights were dead and I crave dark skies. I wrapped up warm and went outside and there was the Milky Way. Pow! Right over my front doorstep like a river of fairy lights only much better than Disney could ever do. A dusting of icing sugar snow reflecting the starlight and I must confess things were getting pretty darned pretty. I half expected to see a poor man come into sight, gathering winter fooo-ooo-el.
A few minutes with the binoculars, gasping at the Pleiades, Hyades and the Double Cluster in Perseus, a quick hello to Jupiter's moons, then a couple of minutes to set up the camera and tripod and … arse … it clouded over and started snowing again.
Ah, well. I kinda like power cuts. Living in the village I always keep a mini-Maglite and a stack of candles to hand. Pretty soon the house looked about as Christmassey as it gets around here and I was happily tucked up under a duvet in the big chair reading Dickens by candle-light.
That's bliss for me. Peace, quiet, velvety darkness; just me, a candle and a good book. Suddenly reading becomes an even deeper pleasure than usual. I rather hoped the power cut would go on for hours.
It almost did. A little over an hour and a half of sipping wine, enjoying the company of Mister Dickens and his characters and feeling all snug and nineteenth century.
I actually said "Oh, poo" out loud when the lights came back up. Way too glary and bright.
Hey ho … So here I am taking advantage of the power to write a blog post extolling the virtues of power cuts. They're like comfort food for a Luddite like me.
Come bedtime I'm going to tuck myself up in bed all warm and toasty and let it snow. I'll be reading Dickens by candle-light again. Bugger electricity.
6 comments:
I heard a story (on a podcast) about a man who lives in the 19th century, in Ireland, I think, though his accent was English. Eccentric, to say the least, but he's happy. He rides his bike, doesn't use the internet, heats his home with fire and corresponds by post. He does, however, use the telephone.
Stars are so glorious when they aren't drowned out by city lights. We've had amazing moonlight and sparkling stars here recently. Peace, quiet, candle and a good book sound wonderful. Have a happy Sunday night.
When I was little candles were all we had do not hurt your eyes.
Augh! I hate telephones, Petrea. What a horrible compromise he has made.
Ms.M. the sky at night must be amazing way up there in Boise. Time to post some photos perhaps?
I did have a wonderfully happy hour and a half, thank you. I wish they'd switch off the streetlights more often.
Mum, you always warn me not to read by candlelight but it does no harm whatsoever (try it; after a few minutes your eyes adapt - like they do when the streetlights go out and you can suddenly see the stars). It makes reading even more pleasurable.
You're kinda like a Dickens character yourself, Dive.
If we had a power outage, I'd probably get the iPad and watch HBO on Demand. I know, bad me.
I might have tried something similar, Vanda, but the broadband went down with the electricity.
Post a Comment