chirp. chirp. twitterrrrrrrrr. chirp.
That’s the sound of the smoke alarms without power. Doesn’t it make perfect sense to equip a house with smoke alarms that don’t work after a house fire takes out the power? We didn’t have a fire. But the power did go out about 4am.
Tennessee hardly ever is cold. When I say cold, after 29 Minnestoa winters, I’m not talking about a range of 25 to 44 degrees above zero. People here call that chiiiiiiiiilly in 3 syllables. To me, 25-44 says “coat.” Below 25, down to 15 is coat and gloves. Below that, add a scarf, but the hat is optional if your hair is like mine and you brave all to spare the do. Boots seldom applied especially when my destination was dress-up. Boots are in the basket with the candles and the inedible forgotten candy bars in the trunk in case I’m stranded. I wasn’t so tough as I was fast between building and car.
Single digits, yea even, single syllables, says “cold.” The temp on the porch is 10, outside the north window is 9.
While I was having wierd dreams with chirps and twitters, the power came back briefly for about 5 minutes during which Honey started the coffee pot and jumped in the shower. I woke up about 6, wondering if I was blind, found the flashlight and found Honey in the shower in the dark. “Thaaank yooou.” I’ll find the lanterns. Why isn’t this one staying lit? Oh. The tail of the wick isn’t in the oil. Duh.
The power hadn’t been off long enough for the interior temperature to come close to the exterior 9 and 10 numbers, but give it time. Choices. I could basin bathe, and dress by lantern light, or call in bed-head and dive for the still warm comforter cuddly bed.
“Power’s on.” The lights being on were the first clue?
Add to list: more firewood, another 2 lanterns, matches, batteries, charcoal. Certainly not toilet paper, bread, and milk. Those are gone before I get off work since the S word (snow) has been issued over the air waves.