It was bound to happen. November. Minnesota. Moisture. And it all started innocently enough, late Friday/early Saturday:
Saturday mid-morning, it was quite lovely:
Minutes after that picture was taken, poof! it turned on us. No lights, no computer. But ... no problem! I would miss Hunting Widows Knitting Weekend (Julie! Judy! Pat! Jean!), but sitting by a window, I could see quite well enough to pick up some knitting. To help keep myself entertained, I stole an idea from the Yarn Harlot from last week. Her readers sent in Haiku; mine can best be described as hack-u. These are the ones (barely) worth repeating:
The power is out
I have my knitting and pets
Things could be much worse
It's warm by the fire
Mitten knitting up nicely
It can keep snowing
Once the cadence gets stuck in the head, it won't let go, even when it's time to go outside:
I have to shovel
Slushy driveway is a mess
Can't let it freeze up
Snow, mostly water
When did driveway get so long?
I want to be done
Still no electricity, and word on the street — from next door, anyway — was that it would be Monday (!!) until the crews could get it fixed. Not listening! Not listening! I headed for the woodpile, not to crawl underneath it, but to carry most of it into the house.* I forgot about the flue — I don't want to talk about it — but, at last:
Apparently, camping by the fireplace does not appeal to 16-year-olds. Mine took all 1,000 of her fleece blankets and went to bed, leaving her mother, the dogs and one clingy cat on the couch with candles, some Dr. Pepper and a promising novel.
I might have squealed a little on Sunday when the lights flicked back on at about noon. I am newly grateful for a warm house and electric lights. I might have to hug a lineman the next time I see one, whether he wants me to or not.
*Who needs Little House in the Prairie -- "Pa! We need more wood, Pa!" — when you can have Little House in the Suburbs -- "Mom! There's power at Xxx's house, Mom! They have a hot tub!"