Our irrational dependence on the powers of electricity is magnified when the power goes off on a windy, cloudy mid-afternoon day in early July.
I was sitting at the table, pondering some sentence structure, when without warning, without a hint and so silently, the power went off. There was no bang that’s often associated with a dying transformer or the sizzle of a squirrel touching a hot wire as it scurried through the trees and power lines.
This time it was a quiet failure, leaving the house in total silence: no refrigerator whirl, no tick of the changing time on the stove, no radio announcer telling listeners about the next song, nothing but the sounds of chirping birds outside.
When Housemate arrived home from bringing me Rainier cherries from Todd’s fruit stand, it took him a moment or two to figure out there was something going on — or make that off — in the house. I explained that the power had just gone off.
His first thought: “does that mean those ribs in the oven won’t be ready for supper?”
My response was a shrug and an “I don’t know,” although I had something else on the tip of my tongue. Something like “how the heck do I know” or “why is supper or lack of supper your first thought?”
Then came all the other questions: “have you called SaskPower, is it just us affected, how long will it be off, does the telephone (landline) work. I knew he was just trying to annoy me and keep me from reading my book but I made an agreement with him (mostly to get him to go outside and talk to his tomatoes.)
I would call the SaskPower helpline if he would go find his battery-operated radio so we could listen to the next newscast on which I hoped there would be some information about the power outage, how long it would be out, what caused the outage, and how many parts of the city were sitting in the summer afternoon darkness.
A pleasant recorded voice answered my call and immediately told me all the agents were busy and in my turn, someone would be available as soon as possible to help me. The agents were probably busy answering all the Moose Jaw callers wondering if they were the only ones without a light in the refrigerator when the door opens.
Housemate kept his part of the bargain and came back with his transistor. I found the local station and waited impatiently to hear a power(ful) report on the status of electricity. The last item told listeners there was a power outage in most parts of the city and that crews had been dispatched to determine the cause. At that point it was too early to predict when the lights would go on in Moose Jaw.
With meal time approaching I began making plans. We could have egg salad sandwiches, maybe salmon salad sandwiches, even flakes of ham or spam sandwiches. There is fruit in the fridge and we have two flavours of ice cream with which to make a milk shake or float. If the power is off long enough we might even slurp it from a glass with a reused plastic straw.
Housemate has been working on cleaning the old hibachi barbecue we haven’t used in years, but it is still a work in progress and we have no charcoal. So no barbecue supper for us.
I could make appetizers with crackers, spreadable cream cheese and the smoked and candied salmon our niece made me. I’ve been eating it sparingly so it lasts longer but I will share if necessary! The conclusion: we would not go hungry.
A friend called to make sure we were okay and that I wasn’t stuck, without lights, in the bathroom. I assured her I was safe and had a light on my phone which had been in my pocket.
And then as silently as it went off, it came back on, bringing the usual household noises with it. Now how to re-set all the clocks — and where did I stash the instructions?
Housemate’s next question: “will the ribs be ready for supper?”
He was happy with egg salad sandwiches. The ribs will cook and then rest overnight in the refrigerator, to be glazed with a sweet barbecue sauce for supper the next night, electrical fairies willing.
Joyce Walter can be reached at [email protected]
The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author, and do not necessarily reflect the position of this publication.
