Power's out

Last night the neighbourhood I live in experienced a power outage. I live in a suburban area with plenty of houses and apartments wedged into an area the size of your average English country manor.

After a week of scorching heat and bush fire danger across the whole of New South Wales, the rains arrived. It started with drizzle just after lunch, but 4pm the thunder had started to roll through the clouds. About 5pm, there was a loud bang from the back of the house, the power went off for a moment then flickered back to life. Another loud bang, and the power died once more. Investigation, me standing the back garden looking over the fence, revealed nothing. Once out the front, Beryl, the old lady that misses, nothing told me she’d seen flashes at the main road. She also had no power.

I rang the power company to report it. They were already aware and had ‘dispatched a crew’.

What now?

My plan of making tomato sauce from the kilos of Roma tomatoes I harvested was out the window because my cooker and oven run on electric.

I’ll send some emails and catch up with my communications. No good, my wireless comes from a box that is plugged in.

I’ll play Farnville2. Harvest a few virtual crops and make virtual tomato soup and milk virtual cows. Not to be, the internet is powered by the electrical pulses no longer accesses my abode.

I got out the candles and lit a few. I even found some lamp oil and got the glass lamp I have going. It gives of great light. Even though it wasn’t dark outside, inside it was.

What should I do now?

I’ll read. I sat out the back and read for a bit until the mozzies started biting. I moved inside. Sent a few tweets, updated Facebook, but because my phone had been off charge all day I was down to 20% juice. How to charge it? I needed power for that. After an hour sitting in the car I had managed to get my phone back to 80% charge. I switched to Airplane mode and wondered what else I could do.

I lit the barbeque and grilled a lamb chop for dinner.  I sat and watched the flames die to create the lingering red that cooks the food.  That entertainment lasted about 15 minutes.  Lamb cooks really quickly.

The light levels in my house, despite having the entire stock of a small Dusk store burning, was low. It was, romantic. That’s all well and good for a nice night with a lover and a glass of wine, but I needed to do something. After nearly four hours of no power I was frustrated. I rang the power company again for an eta on supply.

A prerecorded message informed me, ‘We are aware of a problem in your area but have no idea what the cause it. We estimate that power will be restored by eleven PM.’

If you don’t know the cause how can you estimate the return?

It was 9.30pm. Pitch dark outside and in. Reading was out, I don’t have the sight of an owl. Crochet had been tried by this point too and I kept dropping stitches and missing them, repairing the damage done to the project would take ages. So, to bed.

I cleaned my teeth by candlelight. Changed into my bed clothes and carried the glass lantern into my bedroom. The dogs looked confused. Surely this wasn’t it for the evening, it was far too early.

I tried reading again, just in case I’d made a mistake about the light levels, but it just wasn’t possible without straining my eyes.

So I laid back, closed my eyes and pictured how the world would have looked in the days before power to every house. It was bleak.

What’s bleaker though is that the developed world is entirely reliant on electricity. The games we play, our cooking (yes, I prefer gas myself, but don’t have that luxury in my house), our washing machines, water heating, our communications devices. I have an oil lamp because I like old things. I have candles for scent, not light. I took advantage of a forced early night.

What would happen if we lost the ability to make power completely? I fear many would cease to exist because they simply would not know what to do.

Run away life

Have you ever had one of those weeks where life has taken control and you find yourself on a roller coaster going up and down, round the corners and through the tunnel of turmoil?

The last seven days have been like that for me. I’ve been travelling for work, organised a photo shoot for work, I’ve been on the radio, I’ve added to my fur family, I’ve had a house guest and I sold a bed on eBay.

On Friday I went to Port Macquarie for work. Flew there in the morning gave a half hour presentation and then climbed on a prop for the trip home at 5pm. It was a 12 hour day, (four in airports, one and three quarters on aeroplanes, driving driving to and from airports, two and three quarters sat in a management meeting listening to gumph about road building and my half hour) all for half an hour in front of the room showing some slides and doing a bit of talking. Daft beyond believe, but I did get to pop into Cassegrain Wines on the way back to the airport.

Last Wednesday night I was on the radio. Yes, actual radio. Ok, so it was community radio with a radius of 10 yards, but radio none the less. I was on the Uncle Mike and Mama Carol Show on Flame FM 100.9 (or Auburn and Bankstown Regional Radio as it’s know while the licence request goes through). Uncle Mike was off watching rugby (State of Origin, a big thing for those in NSW or QLD) so I got to fill in. Carol drove the control centre while we chatted, played songs, did Bing Bong (read out Overheards for the free commuter newspaper) and generally brought the whole community into disarray. It was an absolute hoot. At the end of it, I was offered my own show. Mad!

I added three chickens to my fur family at the weekend. I wanted some for a while, they are cheap and easy to keep and they give you eggs. Plus, as an added bonus in my house they keep the cats entertained. Oren has decided they are better than TV. She sits and watches them for hours. She follows them around as they walk around the pen. Cara is interested, but as they are outside and prefers being inside, in the warm, she takes a quick look on her way back in after toilet breaks. Puss has seen it all before and simply ignores them as he does with anything he deems not worthy of his attentions.

My house guest arrived on Sunday, but the prep had caused a minor frenzy of activity. Cleaning, making up his room, going to IKEA to purchase a duvet and pillows (thanks goodness for the ‘As-Is’ bin, saved $40 on the pillows). I also made bread. Then as a last minute thing, I decided to use the lemons bombarding my back lawn, by making lemonade. I had no idea it was so easy to make what is essentially a lemon cordial/squash. I made much more than the recipe suggested due the overflowing bowl of lemons and by the end of it I had three bottles of lemon squash for the price of a bag of sugar.

I sold a bed on eBay. Those of you that know me well will know of my general distaste for eBay. But, as I had a double bed cluttering up the hallway, I decided to bite the bullet and get rid of it. The guy that brought it came to pick it up in Sunday night. He had hired a van and hadn’t taken the sizes provided into account when hiring, so he had to dismantle it in my driveway, using my tools. Idiot! It was dark, I was busy, I left him too it. My house guest N. was kind enough to sort out the boys with the bed. My distaste for this selling medium comes from this sort of stoopidity that comes with folks wanting a bargain. I have yet to have a reasonable selling experience.

The photo shoot for work turned out OK, but the start of the day wasn’t looking too hopeful. It was raining heavily and it was supposed to be an outdoorsy shoot. We had hired talent for the day, a photographer and organised a construction site to be available. It had to be done the day it was booked for. We managed to get a couple of breaks in the weather where it wasn’t throwing buckets over us, but we still needed to put plastic bags over the flash units and an umbrella over the photographer.

I have a message for the planet. Please stop, I would like to get off for just a short break.

Nothing, Nothing Relax

I've done nothing but household chores all weekend. It's been great and I bloody hate housework. I have had two very brief interludes;

Yesterday I had to vote (how democratic is it really when you get fined $250 for not voting?) Kevin Rudd and Labour got in. I mean what kind of a name is Kevin for a Prime Minister. PM’s should have distinguished like George, John or Margaret, they shouldn’t have names from a Croydon council estate, it’s almost as bad as Tony! Anyway…

Today I met T. for a drink and a spot of people watching at The Colombian on Oxford Street. God that place is so gay, it’s FABULOUS! On the way I brought myself an amazing new pair of summer shoes.

Meat on A Stick

I had a really long sleep. Puss finally got me moving on Sunday morning with a paw in the face and a meow. He was wasting away clearly. I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stopped dead. My legs hurt, my arms and shoulders ached and my boobs felt like they’d been thumped. I hurt all over. That god damn boat trip!

As I walked past the mirror I caught sight of my legs. The gentlemen amongst you please help me by telling me how attractive purple legs are? I suppose i be thankful that I heal quickly. I spent the day on the sofa with Puss, watching telly from the week (House, NCIS and Life on Mars) before getting in the shower and getting ready to go to dinner.

Todd had booked Wildfire for Rachel, him and I. I’d never been before and believing it to be posh I put on a skirt. It was fairly posh…an amazing fit-out with unique lights and private rooms above. We had a nice spot looking out over the Opera House. But I got the feeling it was more about the tourist than the local. We were one of the few tables that seemed to have made an effort when getting ready and many looked they had just pooped in after a day of the tourist trail. The prices kept out the true riffraff.

The food was amazing, as was the wine and the desserts. It was another evening of chatting and we all came to the conclusion that not enough people experience fine dining as a form of entertainment. To most people eating is something you have to do to survive, so it is not something that should be the only thing you do all night. We arrived at six and left just before ten. It was a beautiful evening.

I got the bus home, Todd and Rachel went for final coffee.

(photos to come)