I woke in the middle of the night just as the power went off. But the sun of the morning felt good and it was warm and we broke out the camp stove and make coffee outdoors and shoveled the deck.
It was good regardless.
Feeling ok, we prepared.
Power outages puts our family into camping/survival mode. It is a tentative balance of despair and joy, simply existing together. Like dumb suppers for our deceased, we feed each other as best we can given our circumstances.
Clearing the deck for Winter- gathering final garbage , last plants, making space for people and piles of snow. Dealing with large objects and children near the fire. Explaining sacred space without stating as such and gentle guidance away and towards.
Awkward space between the worlds.