Little House in Central NJ

We were without power for a few hours this afternoon. A humongous thunder/lightning extravaganza blew in and all hell broke loose out there. About ten minutes into the excitement the lights flickered, sputtered, then died and with them went the a/c, the computes, the tv, all the things that make modern life what it is. I was in the middle of knitting the last few rows on the second sleeve of a baby sweater I've been working on and I wasn't about to let a little thing like fried electronics stop me.

How quiet the world is without the hum of electricity in the background. Our house was utterly silent. The only thing you could hear was the gentle click of my knitting needles. You never really think about or notice the white noise electricity provides until it's gone, a faint, almost inaudible hum that's been part of the soundtrack to our lives for so long that you feel vaguely unsettled without it.

At least I did. I loved the pure silence but I'd be lying if I didn't admit to being very glad when the power was restored.

Power corrupts. Absolute power is kind of neat.
--John Lehman, Secretary of the Navy, 1981-1987