Literary Allusions After the Storm

I have heard the chainsaws singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.


It is interesting, the literary allusions that go through one's head, when one waits, sometimes patiently, sometimes in despair, for the power to be restored.  Of course, Eliot used different images in his "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock."  Mermaids, chainsaws, the sentiment is similar.  Or perhaps I've been sitting in the heat too long.

I spent one afternoon sifting through people's offers in my head.  A guest room, a place to put our air mattress, a 1968 camper that's not only been restored but had AC added--I recognized my grandmother's voice in my head, the woman who always said she didn't want to be a burden.  My brain has become a mix of my grandmother, the Thoreau who wrote "Self-Reliance," and the voice I call my inner Laura Ingalls Wilder.

My inner Laura Ingalls Wilder tells me to quit whining and to get on with it.  Build a house out of sod, or do something constructive.  Did Laura's sister Mary ever whine?  No, and she was blind.  What do I have to complain about?

Most of the time, we keep our sense of perspective by reminding each other of how it could have been much worse.  We have our house, even though it's got no power right now.  The issues keeping us from having power are fixable.  We should be back to "normal" soon.  Many will not be so lucky.

Today, I broke down and went out for coffee.  It's not as good as the coffee I will make when I have power.  But this morning, with my spouse having an 8:00 class, we couldn't make coffee on the grill.

The power company says that our power will be restored today.  We continue to live in hope--tinged with the fear that we will always be a third world spot with no power in our first world neighborhood.