Archive for the ‘Life on a Farm’ Category

I hear about the freezing storms in the east.  And I live in the wet storms in the west. 

It’s been wet and soggy for what seems like forever to this former Texas girl.  And what that means in our neck of the woods (literally) is that a tree is likely to fall into or blow on to the power lines/transformer/whatever and then suddenly that’s it.  Everything shuts down.

Last night I woke up to the sound of my husband snoring.

I lay there for a while getting a little miffed that the fan was not on.  (We’ve been over this before.)  I finally got up to turn it on myself, and noticed that the switch wasn’t working.  THEN…. I noticed the house was completely still and quiet.  No “hum” in the background that we don’t even hear most of the time.

Heavy sigh.  The power is out.  Again. 

I look outside from the second story and see our largest  Redwood (90 foot) swaying down toward the window…and I am fully awake. There are 3 of them…but  it’s the tallest one that makes me back away.  The wind is really loud and I’m reminded of Peter and the wind and waves.   Back away, be calm,  have faith.  

 Extremely loud winds.  Wondering if  Northen CA ever has tornados, I’m having trouble with the calm part.    

From another window I look out over the farm, and the country side…it is pitch black.

Trying to remember that God is in control of those winds, and those trees,  I focus on the dark countryside. 

We get so used to neighbors lights, guard lights, traffic lights, etc, that when it’s all turned off, it is very, very dark and strange, and, I have to say, a little scary.  I think about what the pioneers went through as they cleared the land, and started a new life…before Thomas Edison came along. 

I also think about the people in Japan.   The news is back to normal, but their lives are still ripped apart…  and no hope of the electricity being turned on soon.

Speaking of earthquakes,   Gary continues to snore…earplugs in.   He will sleep through tremors and then tell me “Go back to sleep. It’s just a little quake.”  (!)  Of course, he was raised in Northern California and stood between beams on a job site when the ‘89 one hit… he doesn’t worry about the Redwoods. 

But the (also) 90 foot Doug Fir that was three feet away from our house did worry him,  every winter.  So, he had a crew come and  take it down.  “Felled.”   But that’s another story.  And video.

And yes, we do know these things are always possible.  We try to prepare.  Flashlights, of course, (where are those darn things?)  Candles, large and small,  ready everywhere, with matches hidden behind.  Most of the time gallon jugs full of water are stashed under sinks in kitchen and bathrooms.  Most of the time.

The worst thing for me is not the lack of light.  For us and most who live out here, (in any rural area for that matter)  it also means NO Water.   

It’s not just coffee (priority in this house) …although we have a gas stove and a French Press, which we prefer anyway.   But I find out just how often I go to the sink to wash my hands, without thinking. 

So it’s dark or dull (on a cloudy day) and hand sanitizer just doesn’t always do it for me.  Plus we have an animal rescue, and that means we need water for various things.  (Thank goodness for the unsightly 5 gallon rain catchers Gary keeps behind the small barn.)  

Years ago my grandfather would smile and shake his head.  “You’ve got to get rid of some of those ole cats Diane…”     And I would smile back.  And shake my head the other way.

Meanwhile, back at the no- power ranch, wonder if this will last 5 days like it did one year?  

The refrigerator… mercy!

As I mentally go over the contents of the frig. and freezer,  I’m remembering that  I did not turn on the dishwasher last night, OR get the coffee water ready, OR dry the last batch of  towels needed for the cats.  

It’s then that I think again about the folks in Japan. 

Incredible, the people there.  The news on the TV is back to normal;  their lives, however, are not.  My inconvenience,  is just an inconvenience,  for a time.   How quickly we forget. 

So, this morning as my battery dies,  I will end this, and just say… I’m so grateful right now that our power is out. 

 Because I need to be grateful to even have it at all.  And, because I know it will come back on.  And I don’t take that for granted….not for one minute.

I’d love to know what you are grateful for today.