I spent a few unscheduled quiet moments on Saturday and I am very happy about it.
The power went off in mid-afternoon just as I was about to stir the final two ingredients into a cake batter. Rather than cuss and swear and curse about the infernality of it all, I added the flour, set aside the milk, and popped the batter in the fridge.
The magic juice we depend on would return in its own time and no amount of prayer, begging, or voodoo would change it.
It was a sunny day. Spring was in the air if not on the calendar.
I opened the front door to the afternoon sun, raised the window on the screen door to let in the fresh air, stretched my middle-aged self upon a leather loveseat and listened to the melt.
It was soothing and invigorating at the same time. The break from all human-engineered house noises was welcome. Humming of appliances was replaced by the happy tinkling of water flowing from downspouts.
It was a glorious chance to break away from the common activities of my usual life, and for it I am grateful.
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