Saturday, August 23, 2008

Awakened by Quiet

So here it is 1:30 in the morning and our lights are on and everything is hunky dory when the sound of large, heavy vehicles pulling into our driveway herald the arrival of Georgia Power. Seems the rest of the neighborhood is without power: the top of the nearest pole has energized with tiny bluish-white sparkly things marking spidery trails along the wood and wire where our neighbor's electricity is leaking out.

The guys in the yellow rain slickers get to work. First order of business: cut the power to the Guice residence — clunk. Tropical storm Fay collects her remittance.

It seemed unfair. I mean, it's not our fault the rest of the neighborhood went out, right?

Actually, it was our fault. Turns out some limbs from our yard had fallen onto the lines that cross our property. To further our punishment, these large trucks now squish into our backyard pressing deep furrows into the lawn. More yard work for Frances.

The next hour and a half was filled with mysterious shouts and whiny hydraulics that slowly recede into drowsy dullness as I nodded back to sleep. An unknown switch was pulled and I awoke. The house was alive again. At 3:30.

That wasn't so bad.