New England has suffered a plague of bad weather. Even though Hurricane Irene was demoted to a tropical storm before it struck in August, it inflicted impressive damage to trees and electric lines. Those in the countryside might be thought to be self-sufficient: well water, septic systems, wood stoves, vegetable gardens, and so on. In contrast, those of us residing in towns are subject to the vagaries of the water, trash, and sewer utilities. Much of the distinction between the city mouse and country mouse vanishes when electric service is disrupted. My friends in the woods don’t have water when the pumps’ electricity is caught off. Fans and motors that move heat, air and so on are also rendered useless. The latest snowstorm came through four days ago and the accompanying map shows how widespread the damage has been as measured by power outages. Without electricity, each and everyone of us feels the pinch of a primitive existence.When the electricity cut off at our house, these realities came home. The clever wall mounted devices that turn a room from dark to brightness were suddenly nothing more than heavy duty plastic clickers. As late afternoon transitioned to evening, the house was quiet. The laundry was certainly less agitated as it took its time soaking. The hum of the computers’ fans went silent. We watched the pinkish sky filter through the trees which were in turn showing off their golden foliage. But with the dimming light came concerns about the increasing chill. Heavy winter blankets and quilts were pulled from closets. A new high efficiency gas furnace is nothing without electricity to give juice to its control panels. While the water was still flowing and before the nearby water tower drained, I stocked our home with water. Once again, I counted my blessings to be a home brewer.
Unlike the August storm, heat and hot water were a priority. In my all-grain brewing package was a wonderful insulating pouch that has proven its ability to keep 6 gallons of water quite hot for many hours. So one brew bucket was filled with piping hot tap water with the knowledge that hot top water would be at a premium in just a few hours. This was supplemented by three, six-gallon containers of non-heated water for other sanitary uses. Next was the concern about lights. In addition to candles, I found my camping headlamp and a crank radio that gives some light, too. The gas stove wouldn’t light on its own but a handy grill lighter allowed my partner to boil water for spaghetti and heat a jar of sauce. No meatballs alas because we had to keep the refrigerator and freezer sealed against thawing over the coming days.
Others who lost power several days before ours gave way have been at work. It allows them to access the web, use a shower, and sit in a chair without wearing coat, gloves and hat. None have actually spent the night in their office as far as I know but who could fault anyone for contemplating such a thing. After all, going to work is in some ways a blessed convenience, even for simple things has having a toilet seat to rest on that isn’t icy cold. And having considerable light at one’s command is another glorious phenomenon along with on demand music, beverages heated to near boiling in a couple of minutes, and ambient warmth. This is all to say that I realized just how much I was taking all of this (and more!) for granted. For those 65 minutes between when the electricity left and when it returned, I renewed my admiration for the miracle of modern conveniences.
