Friday was a sweltering 102 degree day...and as it drew to a close, we waited for the shadows to creep across the yard. We were waiting to venture out--vampire like--into the night with open arms. Our twins were down for the night, and the house was cooling off.
At 8:34--the lights went out. I gleefully shouted "Blackooout!" (one of my favorite words!) There's something about this paradigm shift that makes me a giddy as a schoolgirl. Is it the awakening of my survival instinct, or just the fact that everything has changed? With the fading light in the kitchen I organized our dinner and located all of our "Blackout Survival Gear." (Editor's note: okay, it's really just a flashlight, but I WAS ready to cook the entire contents of our thawing freezer at the drop of a hat!)
Then, a knock at the door. Our neighbor Barb was affected by the Blackout bug and said only one word. "Scrabble!" "Yes!" She scampered back to her house, disappearing gleefully into the darkness. Five minutes later, she was back with her husband Robin, and our other neighbors Mickey and Sharee. We hustled into the backyard with candles, wine, and a giddy feeling of "how COOL is this?"We played the game by candlelight, laughed and shared stories of Blackouts from days gone by.
As the candles flickered in the garden, I wondered why I loved it so much. In college, I lived in a house with 6 people and occasionally, one of us would sneak into the basement and flip the main breaker. Yes--an artificial Blackout, but only one of us knew it was a fake, so it didn't matter. As the night waned into the 11 o'clock hour, we all realized we had responsibilities the next morning to attend to. The lights in the house snapped on--the swamp cooler and the fridge and the stereo all sprung back to life. We hugged our goodbyes and everyone went home.I always feel a little sad when the lights go back on...
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