I grab my carafe of pre-made morning chai from the fridge. Then take my New York City mug (which made an appearance on “Just Like That” - not that that matters) from the dishwasher and place it atop my measuring scale. I need 8oz of hot beverage to give me fuzzy feelings, looking out the dull overcast sky, snow covered green space and icicle bare branches. I measure, take the mug to the microwave and set for a minute and a half. Ding! Hot chai ready! Should the carafe be empty, I turn to our electric top stove to make a fresh batch. To finish, a quick whizz, whizz from my battery powered frother wand - Et voila, the morning bubbly I need.
Out of the six tools to make my morning chai, four are powered by electricity.
The hum of electric central heating is the music to accompany me on this wintry morning. The smart phone with blinking with notifications, while battery powered, will need electricity at some point. The laptop, through which I am typing and sending all this - don’t forget the router for Internet connection - are all powered by electricity too.
As people in winter storm struck Texas tweet that they’re out of power, my eyelids twitch. Are we truly able to 100% depend on electricity? Like really?
Growing up with regular power outages, where everyone was prepared with matchsticks, piles of candles, gaseras - lamps with braided cloth wicks soaked in kerosene, lighted with a match and pumped to keep the light on and abanico fans or any thick piece of cardboard that you could fan yourself with to get through the balmy tropical nights, I worry about this extreme dependence on electricity.
Girl Scout laging-handa mindset, Virgo forward planning, anxiety driven doomsday scenarios went over drive. What if the electric grid for the hospital across the street collapses? I started exploring the idea of a fire pit for extra security for heat, light and cooking capabilities. Having one on the outdoor patio sounds like a great idea! On the Breeo website, I built one to my specifications then added to cart.
Is it even safe for a burning fire pit to be thisclose to a wooden apartment building structure? I dug out our apartment lease (also electronic) and read through the fine print. Any fire related equipment must be 20-ft away from the building structure. This meant the fire pit would be set up across the street.
Drat.
That didn’t make sense. Did having one twenty feet away, in the bitter cold public outdoors, still warrant a purchase? Without electricity, without a fireplace, without a fire pit, we would freeze to death? Or maybe don’t go out without a fight with ten or more layers of clothing and blankets?
Last year, people really did die from the cold.
Blue sky now peeks from behind the cloud cover, icicle drips from the tree line above, the maintenance dude sloshing his boots across the shallow pool of melting sleet. Temperatures will rise. I smile as the sunlight floods through the blinds, breathing a sigh of relief.
Until it all freezes over again…this evening.
Yep, winter still isn’t over. And winter will be back. Should I bank on my developing world preparedness instincts to survive the next ones? Is this how it now is in the greatest country in the universe? Or has it always been this way behind the rose colored glasses they put on the colonized me?
I got questions. And if you’re allowed to vote here, so should you.
Stay warm people,
Didi
What I’ve worked on:
I used to work with David when I was deep into dough. So I wrote about the best, I kid you not, bakery we have in the metroplex. Doughregarde’s Bake Shop is the only place that could rival any of your favorite dough slingers on the coasts. Now, I don’t need to fly out to San Francisco or Seattle or New York or Miami or even Paris for a great croissant.
What I’m watching:
I’m one of those people who enjoyed “And Just Like That”. I appreciated the storylines on aging, which have not resonated to me until this day. One refuses the reality until you feel the literal ache every single day. Ah, youth.
“Mixte” / “Voltaire High” on Amazon Prime about an all-boys school taking in girl students in 1960s France. I grew up studying in an all-girls Catholic school until high school, so such disruption makes me curious on how it would’ve shaped me. I broke out of the all-girls setting in university, which was…to be discussed at another time.
What I’m reading:
How a Conversative white girl in Mississipi actually took a much incriminated critical race theory class. Must read on how a class maybe shouldn’t be as contentious after all.