November 20Posted on: November 21, 2012
Tufts finally came in early this morning, I almost wept with relief, and I would have if I weren’t mad at him for making me worry. I know he’s only a cat, but he’s MY cat, and my companion. I don’t even want to think about alternatives.
I put on my usual garb of jeans, long sleeved shirt, holster and vest, while the coffee was perking. The auto timer on the coffee pot is one of those things I really miss. I still have a bit of flavored creamer, after that’s gone, it’s either black or back to tea; I think I’d rather have the tea. Meanwhile, I’ll savor the coffee.
I unlocked the shed where I keep long term storage, and removed a bucket of rice. As I locked back up, it occurred to me that I had better make this more secure, but shoved the problem to the back of my brain for now. A five gallon bucket holds thirty pounds of rice; Carolyn and the Stone Soup Kitchen should be happy with that. I put the bucket in the hatch of the Subaru and backed up to the barn. In the refrigerator were those four turkeys, barely beginning to thaw. I pulled out two of them and set them in the open hatch. A few weeks ago I had gotten twenty pounds of red potatoes in a box of scraps for the chickens. The chickens won’t eat potatoes unless they’re cooked, spoiled birds. I hefted the box into the back next to the turkeys, and while there, let the chickens out into their secured yard, then locked up the barn. I might regret not keeping those taters, but I have a bushel full of my own, and more canned.
As promised, there was no one at the church, not even Carolyn, so I left to take care of my second stop, first: the guys on Eagle Beach. Duane was still there cleaning up, but the rest of the house seemed empty. Too quiet.
“No, they’ve just all gone to bed already. Green-Path was pretty upset that they weren’t going to the mine, and threatened firing. John’s already asleep… I thought you weren’t due until tomorrow.” Duane looked beyond tired. When I explained what I brought him for the guys, he perked right up. “You’re an angel! I didn’t know how to break it to them there wouldn’t be turkey for Thanksgiving.” I left him one of the birds and five pounds of potatoes, with a plea that he NOT tell anyone where it came from.
Back at the church, Carolyn had finally made her way there and had opened the basement doors for me. I handed her the frozen turkey, then grabbed the box of the remaining potatoes.
“Something extra for the soup,” I grinned. I put the box on the back counter and went back to the car.
“And this??” her eyebrows rose when she saw the bucket, marked ‘Rice 30#’.
“More extra,” I laughed. Helping like this was lifting my spirits and I sure needed it. I felt almost giddy. I felt like Santa! When she saw how much rice was there, she teared up.
“This is wonderful, and I don’t even like rice,” she sniffled.
“Carolyn, I won’t be able to do much more, if anything, but I wanted to give the Stone Soup Kitchen a good start. You’ll have to make it last as long as possible.” Now I was feeling embarrassed.
I can’t believe the weather! Upper 40’s for the lows, upper 50’s for the highs, and sunny. I took a nice walk around the perimeter of my ten acres, re-marking the trees with plastic ribbon tape, hot pink this time. Not that it matters at all anymore, but it was something to do, and a productive reason to be outside. Last night was the third night in a row I’ve slept with the window open. I get the sinking feeling we will pay for this good weather; of course the window was open partly so I could listen for Tufts.
I got an email from Teresa, which was sent to all township EM’s. The respite of electricity yesterday may well have been our last for a very long time. It seems that the federal government has required all power generating plants to divert their resources to major cities, government offices and law enforcement only. Small towns, suburbs outside the city limits and all rural areas fall under ‘non-essential’ power usage. Failure to comply will result in severe penalties. We just became a casualty in the needs of the many outweighing the needs of the few. This isn’t going to go over very well with the few left in Moose Creek; without power, hope is gone for any sort of normalcy.