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The Happy Pandemic Hurricane Holiday

by Billie Magnuson


Ever since the Hurricane struck Connecticut, I find myself observing how everything could be way worse and everything could be way better. Without power there is nobody to call and whine with, but…

Unfortunately, the days are long.

Fortunately, we have a dependable house to weather the weather in.

Unfortunately, this house is pretty useless without electricity.

Fortunately, we find a hand crank radio.

Unfortunately, the radio is a hand crank.

Fortunately, the house is dark, so we get to bed early.

Unfortunately, the hot August air now appears to be laced with Ambien and we sleep all day.

Fortunately, even the older cat seems to be to doing well enough in the heat

Unfortunately, it is because we locked her in the basement.

Fortunately, after three days of being trapped, the men with chain saws arrive to deconstruct the massive fallen maple in our driveway just in time to make the kid’s doctor appointment.

Unfortunately, the doctor had been calling to cancel, could not get through, and is not happy to see us

Fortunately, if we wear a face mask, we may enter any store we like to buy little canisters of stored electricity, batteries to bring a life force back to our home

Unfortunately, our battery powered radio can only get reception in the hallway, NPR is repetitive and seems less smart when you are not driving your car and we have the cheap fifteen-dollar drones that dump themselves in the forest across the river

Fortunately, my daughter likes crossing the river

Unfortunately, she is not the one who saw where exactly the drone fell out of the sky but is the only one willing to cross the river

Fortunately, we have WIFI again

Unfortunately, it requires wearing a mask and sitting in the library’s black asphalt parking lot to use it

Fortunately, with the ample heat, change of pace, extra rest, bocce and homespun putt putt golf using an empty water bottle it is starting to feel like an odd but welcomed Florida vacation

Unfortunately, the pandemic restrictions prevent us from getting to the beach, we are sick of eating the thirteen pounds of emergency grilled bacon from the thawing freezer, it is day seven – bocce becomes boring by day five, putt putt involves letting your kids use your golf clubs and vacation is dragging on longer than Eversource ever expected.


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