Lights Out

When I was a kid, we lost power a lot. It was the nature of where we lived (Long Island) and the antiquity of the electric grid. My mother filled the bathtub, and cooked with sterno. We had candles and flashlights. It was like camping inside, which explains why I've always liked outdoor camping, as well as living in Costa Rica.

The power rarely goes out in New York City, except for the so-called outer boroughs, which everyone knows isn't really New York. Even where we lived in suburban Rhode Island, basically in the woods, the power rarely went out.

Here in my cozy Catskill cottage, we've lost power once when we weren't here and once in the aftermath of hurricane Sandy. Late Saturday afternoon, while Marty was out with my niece and her husband, a tree fell up the street and snapped the power line. I knew I could cook dinner with propane and that we had a lantern, but as it got darker and I couldn't see to read, I lit a candle, which was how they found me when they got home. It all felt very old-fashioned.

The electric company, along with a huge rescue truck and several volunteers filled the street and fixed everything in about an hour. Not bad in my book.