Powerless

There’s a Chinese saying that goes something like: When humans make plans, the gods laugh. Well, last Friday was proof it’s a wise saying.

It was the weekend and we had made plans for the day. Tons of them. They included having our handyman friend Shane over to finish installing the counters in our kitchen, buying groceries, eating said groceries and watching my favourite show on TV.

I got home Friday and, instead of plans, I found we had no power. No lights, no internet, no water, nothing. We barely had water because, though it does come from a well, the pump used to take it to the house runs on, you guessed it, power. So we only had the water in the tank and that’s a really small quantity. Still, it didn’t bother me too much, because after calling Hydro they said we’d get power at around 5 or so. We ate a cold dinner and I started knitting. No biggie.

The power didn’t come back last night…and this morning I woke up to a very dark, unhappy world…I wasn’t that cheerful either but did manage to wake up Hubby to share my misery. We ate cereal and found one cell phone that still had life and called hydro. After losing the connection twice, they told us to not expect power until later on in the day…or possibly later. The man at the other end of the phone was obviously at the end of a long shift. He didn’t care that we were losing our food and sanity. Instead of the time the power would return, he said he knew how I felt.

I cursed, swore to myself we’d go off grid as soon as possible and hung up. Then went to boil water. We have gas, a blessing since it works when there’s no power. We heated water and had coffee and tea…and chatted by candle light. It was actually really nice.

Then Hubby went out to do some yard work and I blew my nose and threw the tissue into the toilet. For some strange reason, I flushed it.

Big. Mistake.

I heard gurgle, gurgle and nothing else.

Our toilet is a Grouch. Obviously an evil mastermind in another life, he’s been reincarnated as a toilet for punishment. Perpetually grumpy, this machine will stop working at the worst opportunities and yesterday was his coup de grace.

Or maybe he just resented my wanton misuse of water.

Whatever the reason, Groucho stopped working half way through swallowing the tissue. No amount of plunging or praying was going to change his mind. After cursing in different languages and getting nowhere, I ran to the kitchen, got the last of our water into a pot and boiled it. Still, one pot of boiled water threw Groucho into action and it reluctantly did its job.

I ran to bed and hid under the blankets before something else stopped working. River seemed to sense my despair because he slept by the side of my bed, plopping his big head on the mattress and breathing his doggie breath on my face in reassurance.

Thankfully, we now have power. Evening TV never looked as amazing and I plan to have longest shower in history after I finish this post.

(credit: bathroomspics.com

(credit: bathroomspics.com

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