No Power = Freezing Cold

As I was finishing my book last night, the power went out. Neighbor Butch had called us early in the day to let us know that losing power was a possibility, and that he could come with his tractor to plow us out, if we needed him to. “When the heating goes out, those trailers get cold quickly” was his comment.

And the power went out. What would we do? Could we die?

Phil immediately assessed the possibilities: we could get all our blankets and stay in bed overnight. If we get too cold, we could head up to the truck or van and sleep in there with the heat running, even if we couldn’t get out of the driveway.

I went to bed, already chilled at the prospect of no heat for an undetermined period of time. And I awoke in the night, what felt like every hour, getting more and more chilled.

By daylight, my prayers for power were not answered. When Phil got up to do chores, he said, “Yup, it’s close to freezing in here.” A literal statement. The sun had come out, and the outside temperature was near 20. I think our sleeping room was warmer, with all our bodies, perhaps almost 40. Clearly not livable for any real amount of time.

For the next two hours, we headed to the Bessettes. First, I had to locate full snow gear for all five children and myself. That took a good long time. Phil had all the animals established for several days (including freeing the ram lamb from where he had got stuck in the pallet wall—these lambs are really not terribly bright). I was so, so thankful that the lambs were okay, despite the loss of the heat lamp. Had the power gone out the night before, how would they have lived? Yet another way that the Lord protected them.

Phil had hoped that the 4-wheel drive dually could get out our driveway without aid. And if the bed was loaded, it probably could have. But the bed was empty, so Phil used our rented skidsteer to plow, and then towed the truck out, with me “driving” in reverse. Then Phil drove us to the bottom of the Bessette driveway. A short third mile hike through 18 inches of snow, over two fences, and we reached our destination.

Parenthetically, I was so thankful for the clothes provision we had. Phil and I had waterproof pants from a previous Family Fun Week. And, incredibly, I had four pairs of snow pants for the four children who can walk. And they all fit. I think Phil bought a few pairs back in Boulder years ago, and we’ve never used them, but today, we used them all with gratitude.

I made some apple pies. Dennis, as grounds keeper at a boarding school, had plowed and kept the campus clear, then headed home this morning. He got to the top of our 4.5 mile road in his 2-wheel drive vehicle, then called for help. Phil and Michelle went to pick him up, and Phil’s expertise in driving impressed them all. (Dennis, who keeps wondering when I will write a book, wanted me to mention that we saved him, or at least saved him a long hike through deep snow. Since they’ve saved us many times, I am pleased to be able to return the favor.)

Dennis mentioned that sheep and other cattle purposefully give birth in bad weather; it’s a way to protect themselves from predators during their most vulnerable time. I suppose they then have to trust the people to care for their frozen progeny, but at least they protect themselves!

We’re staying the night at the Bessettes. Phil did head home to check on the animals, and returned with good news on all fronts: electricity restored; lambs doing well; all animals happy and healthy. God be thanked.