Monday, December 15, 2008



Earle took this picture Sunday morning in Templeton, MA, up on the hill where he works. Beautiful, but deadly.

We were very lucky. The power went out Friday morning around 7:30 AM and came back on Sunday morning about 4 AM. No trees hit the house; in fact, only a few big branches came down and I've already cleared them away. The pipes did not freeze, although the temperature in the house dropped to below 40 degrees Fahrenheit. The sump pump seems to have died, but so far the groundwater hasn't risen above the floor of the basement. The big hibiscuses weren't happy, but they seem to have survived. I discovered that one of the pleasures of living in town is that one's water does not disappear when the power goes out, since water pressure is produced by gravity from those big tanks up on the hills. Who knew?! Since I've started owning houses, I've never lived in one on town water. Flushing is one of the great pleasures of civilized life.

The warmth of neighbors and companions extended far in our direction. Knitting and spinning continued on despite all challenges and a major birthday party of a friend happened Saturday night right on schedule a few streets over, by candlelight, wood heat, and a quickly bought generator. It's amazing how far friends will come through downed trees and wires, to celebrate with good cheer and good food.

Power has been generally restored to my workplace, but not to the trailer wherein I actually cubiculate. The lines between the main building and the trailer are down. I was advised to stay home, as power may well be cut to the main building when they restore power to the trailer, and who knows when that will happen anyway?

Resolved: I will knit myself fingerless mitts very soon. And get the chimney cleaned and a store of burnable wood laid by. LED flashlights seem to be a worthwhile innovation I hadn't noticed before, and the thought of a generator tempts me like never before. Wool sweaters, blankets, hats, and even socks are definitely not just a fad.


Bezzie said...

I was thinking of y'all. Kinda feel bad for those non-knitters in the cold with store bought wool socks don't you?

Laurie said...

I agree with all of your resolutions. I am amused by the new word: cubiculate. I started eyeing the trees around my house, wondering how long they would burn.

I'm glad you are restored. I think that the parties are MORE important when the lights are out. Humankind gathered to survive, sharing warmth generated by groups, and available food in the old sociologies. It's in our hard wires, all puns intended.

elizabeth said...

Fingerless mitts - definitely! Hope power is restored shortly, and that you guys stay warm. That pictures IS beautiful.

cyndy said...

Beauty like that demands that everything STOP and take notice.

Great photograph.

Layer up!

Batty said...

Beautiful! We drove through Maynard on Saturday, and the trees were covered in ice. It looked like spun glass.

So glad you have heat and power and everything now. Granted, it's 60 degrees, but that's unlikely to stick.

Margene said...

That picture is amazing, but I'm sorry you had to live through a storm like that to take it. Stay warm!

Erica said...

One of the few redeeming aspects of ice storms is the beauty that follows. Well that and they uphold my belief that one can never have too large a wool stash in New England. Glad you're warm again!

Elizabeth said...

I'm so glad you made it through ok. I think for my parents the worst part was the uncertainty about how much longer they might waiting for power. If you know up front it'll be 36 hours and not 10 days, it's easier to handle.

Knit on!