It is eleven o’clock on Thursday night, and I still have no power. We live only a mile and a half from campus, but we are on a dirt road in the woods, surrounded by nature preserve. I can’t complain because it is an idyllic setting. But it’s not so good during storms. There are too many trees. In fact, most days I can’t get good cell phone service.
This morning I hoped we might get power back because there was a Northeast Utilities car parked along our road, but when we returned from seeing Pilobolus at Jorgensen tonight, that same guy was still waiting for a repair crew to show up. Maybe tomorrow we’ll get lucky.
Meanwhile, we have tried to make the best of it. We had power Sunday till around 6:30 in the evening. That night, after dark, we read Halloween stories to the kids by candlelight. The following morning, no one had school, of course, and we were fortunate to have sustained little damage. One large limb came down in our back yard. A neighbor had a large tree take out a fence and almost hit the garage. But when we ventured out into the road to walk up the hill, we encountered two very large, old trees down. One completely took out a set of power lines, and both tree and lines lay across the road. Another had fallen against lines and was pressing hard, just waiting to fall. There was no way to drive up that hill and out. In the other direction, our road crosses the Fenton River. Only kasus is that the bridge has been under repair for ages. You can walk or ride a bike across it, but there’s no way to drive a car across. The workmen have heavy machinery blocking the way even if you wanted to try. So we were effectively trapped in.
About ten in the morning, Cormac and I decided to head out to campus. We didn’t want to cross the downed lines, so we hiked toward the river and picked up the Nipmuck Trail, which follows the Fenton. We hiked about a mile to where it crosses Gurleyville Road, and then walked up Gurleyville to Bundy to Dog Lane and then to campus. If you know the area at all, that part of Gurleyville is just one long hill. Not too bad for me but quite a challenge for a nine year old boy. It took us an hour to get to the community center. I carried a shoulder bag with towels, toiletries, and a change of clothes. Cormac and I were able to gather information, take showers, grab coffee, juice, an apple and a pastry, and head home. Another hour. For all the inconvenience, it was pretty nice father-son time.
Eventually, tree removal guys came and cleared the trees. We know you’re not supposed to drive over downed lines, but there was clearly no power, and so we and all the neighbors proceeded to drive out over the lines to get to town. Not that there was much to do. Most stores weren’t open till Tuesday or Wednesday, and no one had school. I slept a lot. I have a perpetual sleep deficit that I will probably never make up till death finds me, but I made up a few hours over the past several days. And in the daylight hours, we all did a lot of reading and a fair amount of walking around the area.
I rarely get to do much pleasure reading these days, so it was delightful to read Smithsonian front to back, and then devour Paul Auster’s The Invention of Solitude, which I have been wanting to read for years. It’s sad but beautiful. The book is the compilation of two long essays written around 1979, during which time Auster’s father died suddenly and then his grandfather died in a prolonged way, his marriage failed, and his young son came close to dying from pneumonia. The book is a meditation upon memory, family relations (especially fathers and sons), and identity. I was even inspired to write a short essay, though I doubt I will share it with any but a few select people at this point.
So I am very ready for the power to come back, but I am thankful for the time to sleep, read, and spend time with my kids. Tomorrow I leave for a conference and get to stay in a hotel for two days.
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