Beth Lapin

I am still dragging five loads of brush, limbs, and tree stumps to the curb every day. Thank you, “Albert,” for keeping my arms in shape, now that kayaking season is over.

Today, I decided to try WordPress to see if it would meet my needs for a website and blog for my writing career. I am pleased! I feel that the site is easy to use and I’ve figured out how to do just about everything I want, as of now.

Interestingly, this was much easier than the other sites I’ve tried (Google, wix, weebly). I think I am all set! I will try a few more things first and then, I may purchase my domain name!

No electricity: no heat, no light, no water. No computer, no internet. Quiet. Still.

Only birds calling from tree to tree. Cats purring. Neighbors’ voices, as we check in with each other. It’s 30 degrees outside, 36 in, so no frozen pipes. I mindlessly flick on the light switch to the basement to retrieve bird seed. As aware as I might think I am, I am also still on autopilot. In the geothermal cellar the temp is 44. No wonder the cat spent the day on his cushion down here.

Meanwhile the Earth rebounds. Snow clods slip noisily to the ground and trees stretch their bent branches skyward. The creek collects runoff as the temperature inches its way upward into the 50s by afternoon.

Quiet, as we adjust our activities. Listen to the morning news on the battery-powered radio. Still 700,000 without power. My turn will not be soon. Read during the day, work outdoors on fallen branches and smothered bushes to generate body heat. Cook on the outside stove and clean up before dark. Then nestle under covers for a long winter’s nap. Back to the daily rhythms dictated by Nature. It’s not so bad.

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It’s 40 degrees outside, rainy and gray. Gray, gray, and my fingers are cold as I type this. Yet, I am determined to keep my heat off until November 1. I figure, if I am heat-free May through October, that’s half the year and pretty impressive for Connecticut.

It’s been easy so far, Today, though, it’s a challenge. Ramos, the black cat, is crouched under my desk lamp looking for heat. I sit crosslegged and hooded to try to conserve heat. I made soup and grilled cheese for lunch looking for inner heat.

It’s only a hint of what’s to come. Ah, New England, my home. Bring it on.