The power went out just after 10am this past Sunday. Massive winds knocked out power to several parts of the city and we were able to tune into the radio to determine that it really was not just us. And, knowing that, everything came to an abrupt halt, except in the world of babyQ.
We had raw bacon in the fry pan, football on the tv, the computer on and browsing the internet and most of our lights on. And, just like that, it all went dark. All the clocks I had changed earlier that day went blank. Brunch stopped sizzling. The pass wasn’t completed. Mr.Q and looked at each other in utter incomprehension and horror.
So, what does one do during a power outage? Why, take stock of the emergency kit, of course. You know, in case the blackout escalates into a full-blown emergency with bunkers and scavenging and … things like that.
Upon dragging down our rather bulky green, canvas in-case-of-earthquake backpack, we realised that we were screwed. We had no foodstuffs. Our canteen was sludgy. We have enough waterproof matches to light our entire townhouse complex ablaze in the middle of a typhoon. And we have one dinky ass blanket for the three of us.
BabyQ played with her toys and made a grab for the matches.
Having determined that we are not ready for this, nor any, type of emergency, we simply gave up and put babyQ in the Jolly Jumper while I braved the [pitch black] basement for our guitar so that we could sit around and sing songs – kumbaya-esque, feel good songs to make up for the fact that we are woefully unprepared and may, should things escalate, be forced to survive on the stale crackers and assorted weird canned things in the back of our cupboards. [kippers, anyone?]
BabyQ squealed with glee and tried to whack the guitar strings.
Just as our eyes were beginning to look a little wild, our hair a little more frazzled and our thoughts hovering ever-so briefly on the fringes of opening a can of expired clams and weaving extra blankets out of pet hair by waterproof match-light, the electricity came back on again around 1pm. The bacon was tossed, the football game over, the computer survived and we could once again safely navigate our stairwells. Mr.Q and I heaved two-pronged collective sighs of relief:
- we were back in a world we knew how to live in and
- babyQ, who remained unfazed in the dark, internetless, nothingness of a powerless world, is one hell of a trooper.