Saturday, October 27, 2012

Waiting for Sandy

Sorry. I couldn't resist.

It's been another busy week, and I've been trying to figure out why, and I've decided it's because someone decided to move fall break 10 days later than normal. This was not good. Fall break is designed to allow professors and students to 1) collapse, and 2) catch up on everything. Postponing it 10 days makes it that much harder to do both.

But it's here, and so is Sandy. Much to our surprise.

I had planned on using the weekend to leisurely stack the cord of wood I planned on getting. The plan was, actually, to get the wood delivered on Thursday, then spend a few hours on Friday and Saturday, and even Sunday, if necessary, and get it stacked.

They couldn't deliver it on Thursday. It arrived on Friday. And Sunday it's supposed to rain, followed by The Hurricane Wrapped in a Nor'easter.

So, I spent the day stacking wood. It's done.

I also had to run out and get ready for the storm, since I had only one small flashlight and four small, scented votive candles.

As part of this preparation-process, I obtained a good old-fashioned phone that you can use in a storm. I confess, as I took it out of the box, I was overwhelmed with a wave of nostalgia and left longing for the days when all a phone did was ring.

Okay, it's true, it could be a pain when you had to stretch the cord across the hall into your bedroom so your parents wouldn't hear you talk about what's-his-name, and yes, your dad did occasionally trip or clothesline himself on the cord and then you weren't allowed to do that anymore, but all in all, it was a simpler time.

Imagine all of those supremely important calls we all missed back when there were no answering machines.  And yet, our lives continued.

And now, we can talk to our phones and they'll answer us. Not the people on the other end, but the phones themselves. I confess, I don't see the attraction of this, but apparently, Siri is much-beloved by many.

I talk to my cats. I talk to my neighbors. I talk to small animals that frequent my yard.  I even curse at my printer. But talk to my phone? No.

Like Bartleby, I would prefer not to.

The up-side of my being, as one of my friends recently put it, "close to becoming one of those homesteader people who await the end of the world," is that, when faced with the news of a Nor'easter-and-Hurricane, I'm already somewhat ready.  I have canned goods and non-perishables.  I can survive without the grocery store for weeks on end.  I can even skip the gas station.

So my hope is, if Sandy doesn't take away my power, I'll be able to get caught up on my blogging and you'll see more of me here this week.

In particular, I'm hoping to post my review of Toni Cade Bambara's The Salt Eaters.  I'm about halfway through it right now and I'll admit, unless something really wonderful happens and this baby turns a corner, it's going to go on my list of "novels I wanted to like, but just didn't."

It reads very much like an American novel of the 1970's.  Social activists are constantly protesting and women are frequently menstruating.

If you're wondering what the two have to do with one another, so am I.  I'm not suggesting a girl should have to limit the amount of airtime she gives to the discussion of her monthly "friend," but ... well, actually, maybe I am.

If that doesn't make you want to check back to see my review of The Salt Eaters, nothing will.

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