Bragging on old-fashioned ways
In recent nights and mornings, we lost power for long stretches. Our complex runs on electricity, so no lights, no heat, no water, and no cook stove. I hail from rural Montana where power is more occasional luxury than a regular thing, so . . .
We lit four ancient Eagle oil lamps and lounged under a huge, thick, goose-down comforter. Six-gallon jugs from the closet held emergency water for drinking, washing, cooking, and flushing. Firing up the ol’ Coleman camp stove gave hot oatmeal and cowboy coffee from a blue-enamel pot.
Our pioneer aspect was jarred somewhat as we watched battery-powered DVDs on a 9-inch Sony (with this laptop for backup viewing) and when neighbors pounded on our windows wondering how the hell we were lit up and cooking when they were dark, cold, and had to send someone to find grub at a far Denny’s or Jack-in-the-Box.
We offered cups of coffee and the Boy/Girl Scout motto. Score one for old folks.
In recent nights and mornings, we lost power for long stretches. Our complex runs on electricity, so no lights, no heat, no water, and no cook stove. I hail from rural Montana where power is more occasional luxury than a regular thing, so . . .
We lit four ancient Eagle oil lamps and lounged under a huge, thick, goose-down comforter. Six-gallon jugs from the closet held emergency water for drinking, washing, cooking, and flushing. Firing up the ol’ Coleman camp stove gave hot oatmeal and cowboy coffee from a blue-enamel pot.
Our pioneer aspect was jarred somewhat as we watched battery-powered DVDs on a 9-inch Sony (with this laptop for backup viewing) and when neighbors pounded on our windows wondering how the hell we were lit up and cooking when they were dark, cold, and had to send someone to find grub at a far Denny’s or Jack-in-the-Box.
We offered cups of coffee and the Boy/Girl Scout motto. Score one for old folks.