As we leave the dentist's office, an interview plays on the radio about the devastating earthquake in Mexico City. The woman speaks of the grocery store where she shopped being destroyed, newly homeless people whom she knows, and the panicked search for her loved ones following those unexpected moments of terror.
We stop at our grocery store for a couple of bottles of milk + a bulk treat. At home, I warm up some milk for yogurt + set about recording my expenses with the help of my online bank account. When I try to log off the page, it says that I am not connected to the internet. I like to know that the bank page has logged off, so I try a few more times...no luck. I help Julia with her geometry assignment.
After washing my lunch plate, I notice that the clock numbers are not lit on the stove. I try the light switches + realize that our power is out. I text Mr. Tribe, noting that my phone battery is almost dead. Since I have no internet, I decide to pick up a book. I start reading Empathy by Roman Krznaric. I write down a beautiful quote. I realize that I won't be able to get the car out of the garage later without the power door, so decide to go see if I can open the door manually.
As I drive the car out of the garage and park it in the driveway, the radio relays the voice of a man in Puerto Rico describing what his family has been eating since the hurricane...some root vegetables + bananas from their backyard. When they are gone, he doesn't know what they will eat. The interviewer asks if he thinks he will leave Puerto Rico, + he says that everyone in the whole country can't leave.
Back inside, I realize that the timer I set on the stove for the cooling milk isn't working. The milk hasn't cooled too far past the desired temperature, so I grab the yogurt to stir in + it dawns on me that the fridge isn't working. I start thinking about the few jars of frozen tomato sauce I have been able to eek out of my failing garden + how they will be ruined (along with the milk I just bought + the rest of the week's food) if the power stays off for too long. I wash the dishes + wonder how long we'll have hot water.
It's warm + I want to turn on the ceiling fan. At least it's not as hot today as it was yesterday. And then it hits me. I don't know how it took so long for the pieces to come together.
"Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other's eyes for an instant?" ~Henry David Thoreau (the beautiful quote from Empathy)
This was written before the horrific events of this weekend. There is just so much sadness.
Love,
Jane
We stop at our grocery store for a couple of bottles of milk + a bulk treat. At home, I warm up some milk for yogurt + set about recording my expenses with the help of my online bank account. When I try to log off the page, it says that I am not connected to the internet. I like to know that the bank page has logged off, so I try a few more times...no luck. I help Julia with her geometry assignment.
After washing my lunch plate, I notice that the clock numbers are not lit on the stove. I try the light switches + realize that our power is out. I text Mr. Tribe, noting that my phone battery is almost dead. Since I have no internet, I decide to pick up a book. I start reading Empathy by Roman Krznaric. I write down a beautiful quote. I realize that I won't be able to get the car out of the garage later without the power door, so decide to go see if I can open the door manually.
As I drive the car out of the garage and park it in the driveway, the radio relays the voice of a man in Puerto Rico describing what his family has been eating since the hurricane...some root vegetables + bananas from their backyard. When they are gone, he doesn't know what they will eat. The interviewer asks if he thinks he will leave Puerto Rico, + he says that everyone in the whole country can't leave.
Back inside, I realize that the timer I set on the stove for the cooling milk isn't working. The milk hasn't cooled too far past the desired temperature, so I grab the yogurt to stir in + it dawns on me that the fridge isn't working. I start thinking about the few jars of frozen tomato sauce I have been able to eek out of my failing garden + how they will be ruined (along with the milk I just bought + the rest of the week's food) if the power stays off for too long. I wash the dishes + wonder how long we'll have hot water.
It's warm + I want to turn on the ceiling fan. At least it's not as hot today as it was yesterday. And then it hits me. I don't know how it took so long for the pieces to come together.
"Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other's eyes for an instant?" ~Henry David Thoreau (the beautiful quote from Empathy)
This was written before the horrific events of this weekend. There is just so much sadness.
Love,
Jane
