Three hours and twenty minutes ago a poplar tree smashed against electrical wires on our road, ousting electricity for everyone.
The mothers, fathers and teenagers could no longer utilize their computers. The kids lost access to iPads. Toilets no longer flushed. Water no longer ran freely and joyfully out the faucet. The gas stove no longer lit without a match. Most of the telephones refused to ring, unless they remained hooked up to an old-fashioned rotary line. The refrigerator ceased humming. The dehumidifier? Kaput. The lights? What lights? (Who needs ’em anyway, on this first day of summer, the longest day of the year?)
I sat cheerfully for the first hour or so, reading a book. Then dusted and cleaned a shelf. Called my mom on the rotary phone to see what’s happenin’ down in Yale. Lit the stove with a match and drank a cup of tea. Went outside and watched the grass grow and the wind blow.
And then I felt that familiar nervousness…oh no…what the heck do I do NOW?
Oh my, oh my, that experience of becoming unplugged! It showed me, once again, how dependent and sometimes addicted we can get to our modern technology. We love our running water, our cold food, our flushing toilets, our blogs, our email, our Facebook, our telephones, our connection to the world, don’t we?