Lights Out

8:15 PM

I am typing this by candlelight.  About half an hour ago my on-line existence came to an abrupt end when the power went off.

So this is the afterlife.  I was hoping for more Grace.

Maybe the new battery in my laptop will last until the city gets things going again.  And then there's the Netbook, which is good for 8 hours or so.  I've never had a power outage last longer than a couple of hours here.

Georgetown is not Iraq.  Not yet.

It is still a little bit light outside, but quite dark in the house.  I can't see the keyboard.  Thank God for touchtyping.  I suppose I can get on line with Verizon, if I can see to connect it by these cursed candles, but my cable connection went down with the modem.  I would repair handily to the Lazy Daze, and may yet, but it's still hotter than blazes out there.  In fact, it's starting to get warm in here.  A portent of my eventual destination.

I did go out and start up the generator.  It is not running well, spitting and surging.  But it is running, and so is the AC.  It may take two hours, though, just to get temps down into sleeping range.

Uh oh.  Dooooom.  The AC in the Daze switched off, due to low power from the Onan.  This is not good.

Even 60 years ago, many houses in the South had a summer "sleeping porch", situated to catch what breeze there was.  Men were giants in those days, and houses had ceilings to match.  I remember using one at my Grandma Harvey's house in Baytown.  Or Goose Creek, as it may have been then.  She also had a whole house attic fan.  You had to hold on to the covers when that thing revved up.

All one now with Nineveh and Tyre.  This house is old enough to have been paid for twice.  But it doesn't predate air conditioning.

The power just went on, briefly, then off again.  Dang.  I'm dooooomed to a hellish night.

It's an old sad story.  If you never use it, you lose it.  I may have to clean that generator carb before I leave.  "Or maybe if I run enough gas through it, that will do the trick," he thought, economically.

When things go wrong, the chain of redemption falls back to its weakest link before it fails.

Once again, that was me.

Bob, posting in the dark via cell phone.  Just because he can.