WINTER ALREADY!?
by
Jim McGregor

It was the silence that woke me. I turned to glance at the clock on my night table but there was no red, digital readout glaring back at me. The power was off. I laid back and listened and could now hear the gusts of wind swirling through the tops of my fir trees, the ones I didn’t top this summer.

It was still dark and I listened for the background noises that we never hear, the hum of the fridge motor, the furnace fan, the digital numbers clicking off the seconds of our sleep. I swung out of bed and pulled on my house coat. The hallway was cool so the power had been off for awhile. I’ll be damned, the flashlight is in the hall closet and it actually works!

After a quick bathroom stop, Ok not that quick, I check the battery operated clock in the kitchen. It reads 6 AM. I am up now and I need coffee. I clatter and bang through the cupboard and there at the back is the old pan with the broken handle, perfect for boiling water on the barbecue. I fill it with warm water and slip out onto the deck. The barbecue fires up and I place the pan on the burner.

The back screen door didn’t close right away and I see the tail end of my old cat escaping down the stairs. He goes half way, assesses the wind and the rain, and with a look only cats have, tells me he has changed his mind and scurries back in the house. Both of us are older and a bit smarter.

I have a small transistor radio somewhere, in the microwave stand drawer maybe? No, not there, check in the cupboard above the counter, the one with ‘the crap that should be sorted through and thrown away one day.’ There it is and it works. The 6:30 news says there is a heavy wind and rain warning, some residents have power outages and this is the first big storm of the year. Thank God I have the radio; I wouldn’t have figured any of that out myself!

Ow! Ow! Ow! I singe my fingertips trying to pour boiling water from a pan into my coffee cup by flash light. I pour the remaining hot water into a Thermos bottle for later and the coffee starts to clear my head and sharpen my senses. I start to asses my provisions and decide it is too early to sketch out a ration plan, but I must eat. I pop two slices of bread into the toaster and then, with the same look of realization the cat gave me, I quickly take them out and put them back in the bag.

Instant oatmeal it is then, with a few drops of my precious hot water. Oatmeal by candle light just doesn’t have that romantic feel you might expect but it is warm and provides much needed energy. I eat it in front of the TV, glancing at the remote control as if somehow, a small bit of electricity may have remained in the TV and I can turn it on. I realize these type of delusional thoughts are common among disaster victims after awhile and I dismiss them quickly.

The dawn reveals the storm damage outside and also brings the realization that if the power is out when my teenager awakens , we may have to spend time talking to each other, truly a lost art.

As if in answer to my silent prayer, the lights flicker, the house gasps for breath and the hums and buzzes and clicks resume as the building is resuscitated. It is 7:20; my innate hunter/gatherer instincts have allowed me to survive an hour and twenty minutes without power.

Is that you knocking at the door Old Man Winter? Bring it on, for I am a survivor!