That’s what Ron, our postman, suggested the day following this last power outage. We were still without power on our end of the island and after finishing my coffee and two morning papers, and realizing that I wouldn’t be able to work on my computer, I went for a walk, more to exercise my curiosity than my legs.

In the brilliant, warm sunshine, it was hard to believe that the previous evening had been so wild and frightening, but the hundreds of branches strewn across the roads and the two roofs on the lawn at the Surf were sufficient proof for me.

The sight of Postman Ron was welcome; that meant that there must be power on in the Village. My walking companion and I knew that if anyone had the scoop on what was up with the power, he would. His comment about the romance of the previous evening was met with bemusement by both my friend and me: she had spent the evening alone, curled up with her dog, and I with my cat. But I did agree that it was pleasant to be cozy inside when there was a storm going on; snug with the fire (and cat), candles lit, and with plenty of food and wine on hand.

With the advance warning I had this time of the power going—several brown outs and computer blips—there was ample time to make sure that I would be comfortable for the night, if indeed IT were to happen.

I had lots of fire wood indoors and my favourite cheater logs, Java logs cut into four pieces to use in place of kindling. I had my oil lamp out and filled and I had gathered up all my ugly candles; the stubs and the why-did-I-ever-buy-that-colour ones. I put matches out everywhere including my pockets.

I made sure that both toilets were freshly flushed. Toilets have become somewhat of an issue in this household ever since the double-flush incident of ’96. During that power outage, in our old cabin, I had to melt snow on the wood stove all day to get enough water to flush the toilet, and someone actually had the nerve to double-flush.

A few extra buckets of water set aside just for flushing could come in pretty handy. I imagine that in a real pinch, I could use the hot tub water, but I’m not sure if it would be good for the septic?

I dug out the plug-in phones; the “old-fashioned” kind that aren’t wireless. They work even with the power out, but they’re not great for those who need to walk and talk. I also made sure to turn off any unnecessary lights; I didn’t care to be startled awake in the middle of the night by blinding lights.

I had no worry about food. I keep lots of canned goods on hand. The shrewdest thing we did when furnishing our kitchen was to buy a propane stove; without power, you can still light your burners. We weren’t really thinking about power outages at the time; we just prefer cooking with gas. One of the things we discovered in previous outages was that you can toast bread on a wood stove using a piece of paper towel, but you can’t boil water sufficiently enough to cook pasta properly. What a glutinous experiment that was! Of course there is always the barbecue alternative; you can cook anything on a barbecue, provided you have remembered to fill the tank.

All of this worrying about cooking made me reflect on the fact that nothing makes us so concerned about eating as does the thought that we might not be able to eat. This might explain why hundreds of people who get on a ferry immediately stand in line to eat. Some of them have just left home, and have passed many take-out places on the way or could have packed a lunch, but they are suddenly ravenous when they realize that they are stuck on a boat. We used to sit in school for three hours or more at a stretch without eating, and some people panic at an hour and a half!

Jordan suggested (by phone) that I could start the generator to watch TV! I would be mortified if anyone found out that I had used a generator just to catch American Idol. I wasn’t even sure if the cable would still be on without power; I’ve never quite figured that out.  I read by lamp-light, enjoying the silence and thought of a couple great items for black-outs. How about glow in the dark Scrabble or playing cards? Now there is a niche market.          

By afternoon, our power was restored and everything was back to normal. I still had a mess of yard to clean up and now I had to get back to my computer and work on a column and answer emails from work. Bother!

My cousin who lives in Florida wrote before Christmas about the effects of Katrina and then Wilma on their home and boat. They went two weeks without power and their boat was trashed. “We still periodically turn off the power so we can enjoy candle-light dinners…Having no TV, computers and phones for nearly two weeks and being able to share quality time with each other and our neighbors(sic) was wonderful.”

I think that a short power outage when we are sufficiently prepared could be therapeutic.  Wouldn’t it be nice if we could set aside one day a month; perhaps a Sunday, when all power was shut off and we could all enjoy a taste of old-fashioned life. That would be romantic.