What I Learned

by Donna Schoenkopf

Eight days.

Eight days of Hell.

(You know Dante thought Hell was an infernally cold place, not a hot one.)

Eight days of no electricity in my all-electric house in the middle of a freeze and a blizzard. (Yes. They are different. A freeze is a rain that turns into ice so that everything the rain touched is frozen solid. A blizzard is a snowstorm.)

Eight days with cold concrete floors, glass on three sides of my house, LOTS of glass, and no sunshine to warm up anything. Just dark, gray skies and lots of snow and ice.

Ai yi yi!

I decided I’d stay in my house instead of taking advantage of the help offered by friends and family. I decided to go it alone after I had availed myself of sister-in-law Lynn’s warm and comforting home for a couple of days at the beginning of the Deep Freeze. I had hot shower offers, I had “stay with us” offers, I had “watch TV with me” offers, I even had a generator offer. It’s not that people weren’t neighborly or thoughtful. They definitely were.

I decided to spend the freezing nights and icy mornings and cold, cold afternoons in my own house just to see what punishment I could take and what it would be like to be that cold for that long. I wanted to experience what the Pioneers and Indians and Eskimos, among others, have gone through. I wanted to be something other that a fat, old, lazy, spoiled, American woman. I wanted to feeeeeeeeeeeeeel it.

And I did.

I repeat. I had stayed with darling Lynn a couple of the nights during The Blackout. And there were times I went to get a hamburger or a cup of coffee or use the library computer for an hour.

But I had come home in the mornings after a warm night of television and a comfy bed to find some very cold, very lonesome, very miserable animals. Diego the Dog and Angela Davis, the newly acquired pregnant half Malamute half Pomeranian Dog, had been locked in the only walled room in my house—the bathroom—and were like released prisoners when I arrived to let them out. They were put there because they chase my car out onto Killer Highway 177 and if I leave them to roam the house freely, they knock down things and menace my already three-legged cat.

Diego is STILL a suspect.

Che the Cat was hiding under the bed and wouldn’t come out no matter how many times I called him until finally he poked his head out and ran into my arms. He purred with complete adoration and relief.

Rosie the Cat left for Orval’s house a month and a half ago, because of aforementioned dogs, and now eats with the raccoons that Orval feeds every night on his porch. He strews dog food out there and Rosie has been seen cleaning up the remnants of that dog food after the raccoons leave.

I go over to feed her every day under the defunct Chevy Corsica in Orval’s work yard, but couldn’t make it during those three days of the blizzard, and found raccoon footprints in the snow leading to a licked-clean bowl instead of Rosie’s footprints and some tender morsels left over, as is her wont. I still feed her but have no idea how much she’s getting.

I love you Rosie, but you are a pain in the ass.

I decided I’d stay in the house, without power, overnight, every night, because of all the above reasons. There WERE times I went to get a hamburger or a cup of coffee or use the library computer for an hour, and once I just went outside to my car and sat in it with the heater on for a while.

But mostly I was home.

I learned a lot.

I learned that prolonged intense cold is very, very, very painful. Every muscle in your body is tensed, trying to hold onto warmth. This causes the kind of pain you get when you have a strenuous workout. Also the sensation of the cold is painful. Ever hold an ice cube too long? Hurts, doesn’t it? Yeah, it’s like that.

I learned that every part of your body lets heat escape unless it is covered. Nephew Alan told son John that a person loses most of his heat through his ears. So, with son John’s advice, I wrapped myself tightly in four blankets, “like a burrito”, including folding the blankets under and around my feet. Tight. That’s the secret. And don’t forget your head. Only the nose and mouth should feel the outside air.

And don’t forget to stay fully clothed, including two pairs of socks, sweat pants, layers of shirts and sweat shirts and a winter scarf.

I did take off my shoes.

     

I learned that one of the worst things about being powerless is that there is no coffee in the morning. The only thing that greets you when you open your eyes is your frosty breath.

And the cold concrete floor.

I learned that getting out of bed takes enormous strength and courage.

I learned that the smallest bit of modern life gives pleasure that is truly magnificent. The only amusements I had were some Nation magazines and a battery operated tape player that darling daughter, Rebecca, gave me those many years ago. AND I had a set of Garrison Keillor tapes that I’d never heard before. Hilariously enough, his stories were all about winter in Minnesota. The sorrows of January ... cold and gray and snow-filled. Hilarious stories of cleaning snow off the roof. Stories of deer hunting and getting drunk. Stories of the Chatterbox Café and Cousin Rose who had escaped to California and her new life with her lesbian lover who was great with electric tools and how they soaked every night in their Jacuzzi, their hiking boots lined up neatly under their bed.

I listened and listened while the candlelight flickered. It was magical.

I love Garrison Keillor.

Sometimes, to save Garrison for later, I listened to the hellfire and brimstone of the local Christian stations. They hated Obama. They hated Democrats. They believed in no sex before marriage. They quoted Bible verses with fluent and mellow tones. Their cadences were musical. Their thoughts simplistic and dangerous.

I listened a couple of times to a couple of guys who had the smooth and funny patter of rock and roll DJs. I laughed out loud. A couple of times.

I learned that after I finally had electricity for the first time after a solid week of intense cold, my remote controls for my television didn’t work. They didn’t work for several hours. Punch numbers, volume, stations ... nothing. Then they began slowly to respond. Got an on/off response first. Next came channel changing. And last, volume.

I’m assuming batteries don’t like the cold.

I learned that liquid dishwashing soap changes from a thick liquid to a gel when in a freezing (literally) house for several days. It becomes a substance like hair gel.

I learned that some house plants will freeze to death in a house that’s below freezing for a week. When plants begin to freeze, they droop. Their leaves become stiff and hard.

I learned that one species of my succulent plants (sorry, I don’t know its name) had a spurt of growth ... a good two inches in one day, after I got heat back in the house.

I learned that the land turns into a giant, boggy, soggy sponge after a week of snow and ice. It gets so saturated that when you step on it, it oozes water. This is due to the clay composition of the soil and also the amount of water in the ground.

If the deluges like the one we’ve just had continue throughout the year, we’ll have swamps. Everywhere. Like Florida.

I learned that my expectation of having a light come on when I flip the switch, having a warm house by flipping a switch, having television by flipping a switch, is damaged now. It’s going to take a while for me to trust the grid again.

I learned that staying in a freezing house for a week leaves you exhausted. I think it’s because of the continuous clenching of muscles and the stress of waiting for the lights and heat and WORLD to come back on. It took me two days to feel even slightly rested.

I learned that nothing tastes so good as an Amsterdam gin martini made by F.D., and guacamole made by Butch, and nothing feels so warm as friendship from Joan and Janice the day after the lights come back on.

I learned that stories of past experiences with no power and freezing icy days, and being stuck in the middle of nowhere unable to move, are the MOST hilarious right after you’ve experienced your very own.

I’ve learned that friends and neighbors are good.

I’ve learned that I love where I live and I love what happened.

I’ve learned that I’m strong and can take it.

Yeah, baby.

I rock!

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