I was surprised when John said he wanted to go to church today.  Who am I to argue?  I’ve been to Carolyn’s church more in the past couple of months than I have in the past twenty years; I agreed to go as long as we sat in back, which we did.  Considering this was the first Sunday after the Food Bank opened, it didn’t surprise me that her sermon was the feeding of the masses on a few fish and a loaf of bread.  We even stayed for the long social hour.

In the last couple of days, the ladies of the church, now non-denominational, have been baking bread daily; mostly made into rolls to go with the meal, but a few loaves, sliced to give to those who ask.  The meals have expanded too; not just a thin soup, but canned beef or chicken stews over rice or noodles; chili; spaghetti (without meat of course).   A definite improvement!

I asked Carolyn about the meat shortage.  With all the snow we’ve had, the deer have disappeared back into the swamps, so hunting has come to a halt.

The congregation is down by about half; some are still sick with the flu, some just afraid to come into contact yet, a few have died.  We may never have a true count until Spring.

When we got back home, I was surprised to hear the generator running, and when I asked Jason, he said it was so Jacob could watch cartoons.

“Cartoons?  Are you doing anything else? Laundry or dishes or showers?” When he said no, I lost it.  “Then shut the damn thing off!”  Which he did immediately. ”Look, I stored two drums of gas, that’s only 110 gallons.  The generator uses one gallon every two hours – two hours!  If we run the generator only two hours every day, that’s just over three months; every other day it’s six months.  Plus the gas goes for the snow-blower, and come spring the chainsaw and log splitter!  We do not have enough gas to be watching cartoons!”  I know my voice was rising, but I couldn’t help it.  I turned back into the kitchen, angry.  Angry at Jason for being thoughtless, angry at myself for being angry, angry at the world for putting us in this situation.  I sat down at the table, my head in my hands.  I could hear Jacob crying, and I felt even worse.

“Mom, we’ll get more gas,” Jason offered, as he followed me.

“Oh? You don’t know that! You don’t know if we’ll ever get more gas!  What is out in the barn may be all we ever have!  And that will have to be rationed for our very survival!”  Could he not see this? Jason had the decency to look contrite, as he turned and went back to a very unhappy Jacob.

A few minutes later, John placed his hand on my back and made a small, soft circle, rubbing between my shoulder blades.  Then I heard him set something down.  He’d gotten some ice from outside, and poured me two fingers of spiced rum.  It didn’t seem to matter that it was only 3:00pm.  I took a sip, and felt it burn all the way down.  The second sip was better.  I looked up at him, he smiled and the tears just rolled silently down my face.

“I should apologize,” I mumbled.

“No, Hon, you are right; Jason was wrong.  You do not apologize for being right.” He sat down next to me, and took a sip from my glass.  “Ewe! You really like that stuff?” he made a face, which of course made me laugh.

“But I could have handled it better,” I sniffed.  He handed me a tissue.

“Maybe, but there’s no question in Jason’s mind now how you feel about this and its importance, and I think you made a big impact, one he’s not likely to forget.”

Jacob came into the room, sheepishly and slowly at first, then ran into my arms.

“I’m sorry, Nahna. I love you,” he whimpered, hugging me tightly.