Pre-Edisonianism

I spent the first third of last night in the bathroom, on the floor. No digestive complaints, it was just the only way to get a slight bit of shut-eye while Freddi the dog wigged out over the wind, rain, and lightning of Tropical Storm Irene. For some reason, in the small enclosed tile room she feels less compelled to scratch nervously at the floor—a habit which, when performed next to my side of the bed, is impossible to sleep through. It was not the worst. I had a soft sleeping bag and two pillows, and when I became aware, at some impossibly wee hour, that the storm conditions had eased, I went back to real bed.

It occurred to me that I might go and sleep with her downstairs, where the rug does a better job of muffling her scratching, but I could not imagine how Jeff would cope if he woke to pee at 3 a.m., in the dark, disoriented, and there were no me to provide guidance.

Tonight, Sunday, we’re starting the evening electricity-free, but at least the dog should sleep normally. And I, perhaps, will sleep well, having collected a haystack-sized pile of tree droppings this afternoon, in addition to moving Jeff away from the doorway each time Olivia went out with a load of supplies for her campus townhouse. She left for school this afternoon, missing a fine dinner at Ellen and Fred’s. (Thanks sib and sib-in-law-who-have-electricity, for feeding us.)

If Baltimore Gas & Electric have not fixed us by morning, I am at least more prepared, coffee-wise. Declining to wait at Donut Shack, in the line which was snaking into the parking lot by 7:45 this morning, we instead came home where I scrounged for what remained in the coffee grinder, added one Starbucks Via instant which I found on hand, and concocted a semblance of coffee after boiling water on the Coleman stove. I steeped it in tea infusion baskets right in the mugs. Not bad. Then I made pancakes. Also on the Coleman stove, on the porch. By then I had pretty much ruined the chances of anything remaining good in the fridge or freezer, so all uber-perishables have been discarded and the fridge got a light wipe-down, which it needed.

Now, at 8:30 p.m., my small Eddie Bauer brass oil lamp is flickering away on the mantle, and we are sitting in the living room as a means of staving off bedtime. As a means of staving off wake up. As a means of letting me sleep until 6:30 a.m. Whether or not there will be power by morning is an unknown, but I am now prepared for coffee, with a fresh tin of pre-ground, and a bpa-free, but otherwise less breakable, french press. Because I am exactly the sort of person who would whack a glass french press on the edge of the countertop. I hope Donut Shack is prepared too, but I will once again not be in their line.