When the power went out yesterday (was it just yesterday?) we were about 2 feet from the dining room in our LAST pass of polyurethane on our floors (the fourth coat). Had just the dining room and kitchen to go. We could have continued, but it was hard to see, and that one being the last coat and all, well, you can imagine we thought it'd be good to be able to see (spots we'd missed, schmutz [the ever-present schmutz], pooling, streaks, etc.]).
Having heard on the car radio that there was power as close as Brighton, Holly thought it might be romantic to take a little drive, maybe eat in a truck stop or diner. We didn't have much gas but figured we could just fill up up there before heading back. Turned out many many folks needed gas, or thought they did, enough to line up at gas stations (it was in Howell that we found the shortest line---musta been twelve cars when we got in it); I tell ya, it was the '70's all over again, 'cept without the bell bottoms. The few open restaurants were swamped, so we had PB&J's and went to bed.
Finished the polyurethane today. Can't believe it's taken until FRIDAY of the week I took off work to pack, the week during which the floors were supposed to be all nice and ready to have stuff stacked on 'em.
To me the most enlightening part of our thorough dependence on electricity pondered during this blackout is the food-related part. Could it really have been just my grandmother's generation that saw the icebox as an advance? No wonder people ate seasonally before! I guess I shouldn't be so contemptuous of old recipes with canned vegetables. Of course those thoughts of major species changes in eating habits bring out the anthropologist in me (that's dying to get out) (there's a joke there somewhere i'm sure), make me think on how by far most generations of our evolution took place with very different food practices from those we have now.
No offense if you're one o' them creationidiots.