There’s just something blissfully ironic about coming home to a house with no electricity and stepping on your electricity bill on the mat in the front hall. With DC firmly in the grip of summer weather, I expect this will become a regular event.
Despite Friday resembling the steam bath that people pay hundreds of dollars a year to have access to at a health club, the evening wasn’t a total write off without electricity. Many of my neighbors were out on their porches, what with it being pretty airless inside the house without even a fan. It was nice to catch up with people I live near but see infrequently.
What was nicer, though, was the pace. With no internet access, computer, or TV to distract me I got a chance to read without guilt. Nothing to do but sit and read, and listen to the birds slowly resume their chattering after a thunderstorm that sat right over the neighborhood for at least 20 minutes and pounded us with rain for nearly an hour as it moved on. The only downside to my throw-back evening was the loss of light.
As the evening wore on it became harder and harder to see the type on the page. By the time the power came on nearly 5 hours after it went off, I’d all but finished a collection of short stories I’d checked out of the library last weekend and I had a greater appreciation of alternating current and all of the amenities it provides.
Do you ever go tent camping? This sounds a lot like the same: no electricity, no air conditioning, read, sit and listen to the animal sounds until the sun goes down, then it’s bedtime.
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