I hope you’ll indulge me for just a minute while I blubber dramatically about small towns and community. . .
We lost power on Friday evening due to the blizzard of 2013 and didn’t get it back until Sunday afternoon. In that time, I experienced what it really means to be part of a community, to have your own tribe that will help you when you need it. We are lucky enough to live in a neighborhood where two friends are just blocks away. When our power went out and the wind was howling I became nervous that the snow-laden trees might fall on our house, so I accepted the gracious invitation to spend the night at my friend’s house. They have a wood-burning fireplace and a small generator so the dog and I ran over and tried not to get hit by a snow plow.
When I went back to my own house in the morning, it didn’t seem too cold until I woke up from a nap hours later and the house was 48 degrees. Just then I got a text from my other neighborhood friend who invited me over for a hot lunch since their gas fireplace and gas stove were working. Little comforts I often take for granted made such a big difference when the power was out – being able to hear the news on a hand-cranked radio, toasted bread and warm melted cheese, sunlight to read by. I didn’t have much to offer, but it turns out that chocolate, gin, firewood, and board games were an acceptable trade for warmth and board.
I know that what I experienced was merely a disruption, an inconvenience. My thoughts go out to the sick and/or elderly who had no choice but to stay in their cold homes – and the many in my area who are still without power.
I wanted to start this blog to discuss how supporting local businesses, supporting small-town living is good for the environment and good for our economy. But now I have first hand knowledge that it’s good for the soul as well.