The nice thing with the dark and no computer or television for four days, is that it was a forced Lenten sacrifice that did draw us closer to one another. I haven't tickled Michael since he was seven. I was a monster in the night taking on all comers, including Susan at one point. Michael's getting strong enough to pin me up against the door and rattle it. That's kind of fun, to be shaken around a bit by your son and still be able to lean on him and get him belly up laughing at the Lebanese stomach pincer, a move I learned from a mispent infancy watching South American pro wrestling on a black and white television with our maid, a Trinidadian girl named Violet. Yes, I had a strange childhood.
Finally today there were utility trucks rumbling up and down our dirt road. The emergency crews have come from as far as Michigan to clear trees and work on the lines. It's hard and dangerous work without a break in the snow and wind and dark. They really do a great job and it's heartening that the crew's will come at the drop of a hat from all over to help out. We're only going to be getting more of these weather events. Eventually we'll have to bury the lines, a huge undertaking. But think of all the jobs. We heard the refrigerator rumbling at dinner and then a few seconds later the lights came on and the kitchen tap opened up. Everyone shouted.