We Can't Do It, Captain. We Don't Have The Power! Part 2

Part 1 There was one good thing about the museum being closed. Sunday is normally our day to do house work and prepare for the upcoming week. Rhiannon starts going to school every day again now, so sometimes we find it helpful to plan ahead for things like supper and world domination – otherwise we find ourselves ordering a cup of oil, two servings of grease and a side of lard from our local fast food establishment and barely being able to keep the rabbits out of our backyard.

It’s readily apparent that we need this day to plan, since we were unable to plan ahead enough to do any of the weekly planning and chores ahead of time. (At what point does is seem just a little ludicrous to be planning ahead to plan ahead. Maybe we need to liven up and wing it once in a while.)

Since we came home early, we had a chance to make some food for the week, finish laundry, clean up and read a little before bed. Normally, part of our night time routine is crack open a couple windows around the house to let some cool air in overnight and save the air conditioner for the blazing hot frying-an-egg-on-the-sidewalk afternoon temps we’ve been seeing this summer. This is all wonderful, except that recently, the egg-frying hotness hasn’t really ever chilled out. Overnight has been more like the turn-stove-to-low-and-let-simmer or let-cook-for-six-hours-in-crock-pot type of temperatures.

With these types of conditions, we are thankful that we have air-conditioning, fans, and humidifiers. (It really is a dry heat again – the humidifier is needed. Plus, over the past year of having it running every night, we’ve become very accustom to the white noise it creates. So much so that falling asleep for a couple nights in North Dakota without it was almost a challenge.) And we’re thankful that we have electricity to run all of the aforementioned items.

Rhiannon and I were lying in bed, doing what it is we do best there – staying on our respective sides and minding our own business. I was engrossed in my latest book selection from the local library and she was looking over a few things for the next day at school. I looked over at her and asked if maybe she would like to turn off the lights and go to sleep.

A little after her “In a minute” reply the lights turned off. Along with every other electrical piece of equipment in the house. All that planning ahead we do? It comes in handy – I calmly reached into the drawer of the nightstand beside me and pulled out a flashlight. I ran to the window to see what was the matter / And what to my wondering eyes did appear?

A whole lotta blackness. It wasn’t just us so we did the apathetic American thing and assumed someone else would call to report the outage and settled down to sleep. With no air, fan, or humidifier for noise. Or cool air. Luckily, it was after 10 pm, so I assumed I could open windows to cool off. It was 85 degrees out.

Sweating is not conducive to sleeping well.

Around 1 am, the power came back on. Rhiannon woke up and turned the humidifier on and asked me to cool it off. She was already up, but since I was awake, obviously I should be the one to go down and check on this type of thing. I assumed I could open up some windows to cool it off.

I assumed wrong.

It was down to a bone chilling 81 degrees. At 1:30 am. We living in Colorado for a reason – to not deal with nights like this.

Between a rotating fan, humidifier, and air conditioner, we did cool the room and get to sleep for the rest of night. Some people were without power until noon the next day, so three hours really didn’t sound so bad at that point.

Moral: Shut your mouth. Or carry a block of wood to knock on. Or move to Antarctica. Drastic times call for drastic measures.