I wrote of driving back from Dayton Sunday in rain; well, I’m glad I didn’t wait until Monday to trek back. About three o’clock in the afternoon, the power went out here. It spent about ten minutes previously flickering on and off, toying with us, but I figured it would go when I looked outside and saw ice-coated trees and bushes moving stiffly in the wind. The solid glaze on the car and the vertical brick wall of the house was also a clue.

I wrote powerless rangers, but, of course, we weren’t rangers; it just sounded cool. And we did get a bit cool, with the heat out. However, since the temperature was hovering around 30, it didn’t get all that bad – especially for this one – me – who built a fire in the basement and then cuddled up under a big fluffy blanket on a couch when the night drug on.

I heard a cheer from upstairs and then through the blanket I had pulled over my head, I saw what now seemed like a very bright lamp. I thought about checking the time, but instead turned the light off and nestled down even more.

It wasn’t a long outage, but for one of the younger generation, it could have been Armageddon. Actually, it was a bit of an adventure – we used oil lamps and Yankee Candles and cooked hot dogs in the fireplace – and, of course, the soda stayed cold in the vestibule.

Cameron was most impressed with the stoplights being out and police cars at intersections; I was impressed that I got back without being hit or hitting anyone. Fortunately, it had not gotten dark when I picked him up.

Parts of LaGrange County are still without power and I am hoping the walnut tree that got caught in a microburst years ago and leans at about two 0’clock didn’t decide to just come the rest of the way down.

Oh, by the way, as a powered ranger, I strangely do not feel like picking up the clutter the restored light revealed afresh.