Living in rural Scotland we often lose power for up to 48hours - once we get over the indignation of just how dependent our lives now are on electricity, get the wood burner ticking over and cook on the old fashioned oil fired Aga (rather than it being a 'status symbol') - there is indeed an area of calm in the silence; away from our modern, chatter, mobile phone, filled lives.
The last power cut saw my ex-wife write free poetry for the first time in her life - she has always stalled before, having been brought up on the curse that poetry must 'rhyme' and she was no good at 'rhyming'. The dog and cats all lie together in front of the wood burner - recent conflicts ignored (for the time being), as I read with the sharp, grey light from the south facing window window. Later, after walking the dog - frequently accompanied by two out our three cats - the candle and oil lamps will be lighted and instead of living our separate lives, at opposite ends of our Victorian house, me and my ex-wife will sit, sometimes in congenial silence, sometimes talking - still good friends, though no longer lovers.
Maybe power cuts are not such a bad idea, after all.
The last power cut saw my ex-wife write free poetry for the first time in her life - she has always stalled before, having been brought up on the curse that poetry must 'rhyme' and she was no good at 'rhyming'. The dog and cats all lie together in front of the wood burner - recent conflicts ignored (for the time being), as I read with the sharp, grey light from the south facing window window. Later, after walking the dog - frequently accompanied by two out our three cats - the candle and oil lamps will be lighted and instead of living our separate lives, at opposite ends of our Victorian house, me and my ex-wife will sit, sometimes in congenial silence, sometimes talking - still good friends, though no longer lovers.
Maybe power cuts are not such a bad idea, after all.
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