I know thousands of Lake County people lost electricity. I did. No power, no heat, no Netflix. I had food but every time I opened the refrigerator, I knew the coldness escaped into my house, which was cold enough.
Fortunately I had a book to read and had a headlamp to provide the light with which to read it.
I did have my normal company of three because there was no way my warrior cats were going to step one of their polydactyl paws out on the cold icky white stuff.
And not having internet, it was nice not having access to the soul sucking national and world news.
But shivering under 50 pounds of blankets got old quickly.
On Day-Two-of-no-electricity my neighbor, a tall Mr. Rogers lookalike (except with snow-white hair), along with my friend Mabel and her husband Bart (with his snow-white pony tail) descended upon my house. Mabel brought a thermos of “hot water” for my daily hot chocolate, which turned out to be lukewarm chocolate. Bart and Mr. Rogers brought over Rogers’ generator and a cord long enough to corral a herd of horses. It took the guys only a minute to hook up my furnace. I finally had heat! I cranked that sucker up so high that I could have baked a loaf of bread on my living room ottoman.
I was so very grateful to have such good friends who looked out for me, especially since I was still in the first weeks of recovery from my back operation. I really had no clue that recovery would be so painful and movement would be so restrictive. I couldn’t even feed the kitties for the first week; Mabel fed them. On the second week I pulled a chair into the kitchen and sat on it while gathering the cat bowls and then did the same routine when putting the fresh food back onto the floor. Someone suggested that I feed the kitties on the kitchen counter. That’s a No-Go Zone for any creatures, which my threesome knew instinctively, so I wasn’t going to start that unbreakable habit.
The first day of having the generator went well. I was able to shed the giant fleece-lined poncho my daughter had given me a few years ago, while sitting in the living room; the only room in the house that was heated by the furnace. That night Mr. Rogers retrieved his generator to heat his house. That was fair; I had my poncho and blankets that would keep me from freezing.
The next morning at 7 a.m. I heard the purr of Mr. Rogers’ generator. Bless him, he had quietly hooked it back up and I was able to turn the furnace back on and take the frost off the living room carpet. Closer to noon, Rogers came back over and hooked up another cord from the generator to my refrigerator. Yes! My frozen goodies had been saved. He also said I could switch the furnace cord to the microwave so I could have a scalding cup of no-sugar-added hot chocolate. Life seemed pretty sweet after that.
Even though I still didn’t have internet, I was somehow able to receive some messages, most of which were from people in dire straits: cars off the road, road blocks, stuck in places other than their homes, a friend who broke his ankle sweeping snow off his satellite dish. It was heartbreaking. Lake County seems to be prepared for a fire crisis, but definitely not a snow crisis. PG&E isn’t prepared for either. But yet my last month’s electric bill that was well over five times the norm, most likely didn’t help fund one drop toward PG&E’s disaster preparedness (what are they doing with all their profits?).
With the refrigerator and microwave working, I didn’t have to resort to eating cold food. I gagged at the thought of chomping down cold tacos topped with Impossible Burgers. Mr. Rogers left his generator here at my place while he borrowed his neighbor’s generator.
Again…neighbors helping neighbors.
Mabel’s husband Bart, while on his way to my house, took a photo of children sledding down the hill in front of The Castle off 12th and Country Club Way in Lucerne. Kids…they have fun no matter the circumstances!
After two and a half days with no power, the lights magically came back on. It certainly felt like magic. It must have been a similar feeling to those who first experienced electricity in their homes in the early 1900s. The internet soon followed, which was grand, even though I enjoyed the peace from emails, messages, chats and social media.
What’s a girl to do for the next storm slated to snow us under? Start singing, “Won’t you be my Neighbor?” and get the cords back out to hook up Mr. Rogers’ generator.
Lucy Llewellyn Byard is currently a columnist for the Record-Bee. To contact her, email lucywgtd@gmail.com
