Radar says that our road is open!
We lead exciting lives here on the frontier of civilization. We lost electrical power on Jan 4 and may have it restored by tomorrow – Jan 11 – but I lack confidence in PG&E’s estimates. PG&E keeps kicking it down the road. But not to worry. We have a propane-powered generator which comes on automatically when the power goes off and powers the whole house, except for the dishwasher. I power the dishwashing.
And about roads, ours was totally blocked by two trees falling across it a week ago and involving the power line which no longer was providing power. The trees didn’t break the line, just laid upon it and stretched it tightly while slightly bowing the power poles on either side.
The unpowered power line proved a problem because the Mendocino County road crew would not remove the trees until PG&E gave assurance that the power was off. I gave the road crew personal assurances that the power was off but that did not suffice.
When the trees fell we were fortunate in an odd fashion. We had driven to Cook’s Beach to play ball with Radar and were blocked by the fallen trees upon return - they fell minutes after we left for the beach. But by having one of our cars on the other side of the blockage we were able to walk to it and go to town for shopping and picking up mail – for all of our over 33 years of wedded bliss we have never had home mail delivery.
By far the most vexing issue, at least for Alice, was that over a week ago, before the storms hit, a part on our propane-powered hot water heater failed. When the replacement part arrived last Thursday, the plumbers would not walk through the downed tree area because of the proximity to the non-powered power line to install the repair part. I continued my daily exercise routine and took eight accelerated “Navy” showers – accelerated because, unlike normal hot-water conserving Navy showers, mine was taken with very cold water. Very water conserving. Alice conserved even more water – to my eight cold showers, she had one.
But more about the trees. After waiting patiently – we had no choice - for the county, PG&E, or AT&T to clear the road, I hired a tree cutter Sunday and in less than thirty minutes he cut a way for vehicles to drive through. Which enabled the sissy plumbers – Alice’s description – to drive here this morning and restore our hot water.
Our weekly newspaper arrived in the mail four days late and brought the sad news that “Robbie” Robinson passed away. Robbie used to tell folks when we met at occasions, such as his band playing for dances at the Wild Pig BBQs, that he used to be my Scoutmaster, and so he was. In 1956 he arranged for Ron and I, Paul Greco, and others who I can’t recall, to go to Boy Scout Camp Navarro where we had a really fun two weeks.
Jim Russell was the Scoutmaster prior to Robbie and we watched the coronation of Queen Elizabeth on his small-screen TV. It wasn’t live – it had been filmed and the film rushed to New York for broadcasting – but nonetheless a memorable occasion, especially since at the time I didn’t know that it wasn’t live. For years I told others that we had watched it live, and we all shared our ignorance.
Robbie and band were playing at the Point Arena Veteran’s Hall just after I had a bunionectomy – I think 1991 – and had a pin in my left foot at the base of the big toe to aid healing, so naturally Alice and I danced every fast dance. I almost knocked over Robbie's speaker while frantically protecting my foot from being stepped on by a heedless = inebriated dancer nearby.
Here is a digression - one of many. Alice usually sleeps with an eye mask to block out light and before going to sleep in a hotel room she roams about putting barriers on the little lights on the various electrical fixtures in the room. She envies that I just go to sleep anywhere, usually with her having a light on near me so that she can unwind reading a book. I unwind by quickly falling asleep.
The forecast for this area weather is more rain and strong winds, but it’s been clear and dry the past twelve hours. Alice believes in Camelot weather, where “the rain may never fall ‘till after sundown…” Agnostics we are, but still we entreat God to do this bidding, and since the Sun set almost four hours ago, God has our permission to let it pour – but please spare the trees!
It’s off to bed now to snore Alice to sleep.
Stay warm and dry,
Mike, Alice, and sweet little Radar – who doesn’t enjoy thunder
