Saturday, June 30: Day One Without Power

We have been longing for rain, and stormclouds appeared Friday night. After dark, a little lightning storm struck, and it would knock out the power for a few seconds. About the seventh time the power flickered, it simply didn't come back on.

And then the windstorm struck. It broke some branches of the locust tree that shades our trailer, and the branches scratched our roof. The gusts continued, stronger now, and Phil had the boys get away from the window next to their bed. The three dangers were 1) a branch could break a window, 2) a tree could fall on the trailer, and 3) the trailer could tip over. (I had not had the imaginative capacity for any but the first scenario.) I read by headlamp to the boys.

For an hour and more we stayed like that: three boys crammed into the bottom bunk, a 2'x6' space the size of a camping pad. Isaiah at the head of the bed, in a specially crafted safety spot, with pillows and blankets.

Phil said, "We need a bunker!" He's probably right.

Happily the wind blew in cooler air: once the windstorm ceased, we opened the windows, and the dark, silent night filled the space. (Right before the storm, it still felt clammy and oven-like outside, even though the sun was down. Sure enough, Accuweather showed that the temperature was 86, but "feels like" 106.)

I found it hard to sleep. In part because three boys had somehow taken over my spot on the bed, and Abraham's air mattress was flat. In part because of questions about how long would the power be out. Back by morning? Excellent. The freezers would be fine. Back after 24 hours? Hmm. Five freezers of chicken carcasses waiting to be made into stock, or pork bits waiting to be made into food for the guys ... that would be a great financial and emotional hit. I considered another drive to Costco to get a generator. (I'm sure they would have been sold out, had I made the trek.)

After taking a melatonin, I finally drifted off around 2am.

To wake at 6: Phil was telling a puppy not to grab a chick. He was right: chicks aren't for puppies. While Phil had a longer cow paddock shift, I went to work with the partially recharged battery on the driver (not fully recharged when the power went out). At 6am, the air was just in the 70s, the sun wasn't up: it was fun to pull screws and try to dig out forms. We have to hack through a little layer of concrete that has come up beneath the form, locking it in place. Pick and shovel, hammer and pry bar.

I was done before 9:30: it was too hot. The power wasn't back on.

Phil listened to the news on his radio earphones: devastation and destruction across the state. We figured we weren't going to be getting electricity anytime soon.

Happily, we have a stock tank of water (the "swimming pool") for the chicks and chickens, dogs and cats. Unhappily, despite my resolution to keep the 40 gallon RV tank filled, it is, sadly, empty, as is the Berkey water filter. We have ten gallons of kombucha already brewed, and ten more brewing, so we should be okay for a bit. After a day of kombucha only, though, we are all wishing for water.

For the cows, they are on the neighbor's land. Phil moved them, and, as part of his routine, emptied the stock tank, moved it to the new pasture, and went to turn on the hose ... oh, right. Without electricity, the pump doesn't work. He ended up making a path to the creek. Virginia is in a state of emergency: the cows must have water. Thankfully, Phil had an alternative method to get water for them. Thankfully, they are in a paddock with enough food, they can both eat and drink.

My other big concern, the freezers, resolved itself. The RV has a generator and a battery to store the energy. We spent the afternoon cycling through the five freezers, giving them each about 20 minutes of cooling. We'll trust that's enough for today. I pulled hot dogs for dinner, and they were still rock solid. We thawed the packages on our heads and wrists and were thankful for the cool.

Overall, then, I'd say we're doing pretty well, twenty-four hours into our experiment with summer electricity outage. No internet, no cell phones, no running water, no toaster oven. We have an oscillating fan in the RV that we turn on at times, enough RV batteries to keep the fridge on, and recharge the computer. It could be worse. Sweaty, sticky, but somewhat relaxed.

With nothing to do but survive the heat and stay hydrated, life turns simple.