We’ve been lucky here at The Experiment HQ, which is next door to a senior center and a small hospital. Our power has not gone off yet, and the water still works. Horror stories are all around us. I’ve got a friend who had to open his fridge to keep his food from spoiling because it was so much cooler in his home. I’ve got another friend who burned furniture to keep her children warm, and another who had to take his dad out of hospice because they lost power.
We're lucky, never lost power, in a high-rise in downtown Austin. Have taken in a visiting couple fm Chicago, and am hosting others for hot showers and charging phones. Your heart goes out to those alone, cold, in the dark. I've been through multiple weeklong power outages up north over the years, but this seems so much worse, because people down here don't have any of the basics -- salt, snow shovels, generators -- that get Northerners through things like this.
Down here in Conroe, 42 miles due north of Houston, the storm arrived as expected and we lost power at 1120AM Monday and the water service was interrupted at 2PM Monday, making things more difficult. We got candles out and distributed them throughout the house and, given that it is just my wife and I at home these days, we piled lotsa blankets on the bed and when darkness began to descend, we went to bed at 7PM because there was nothing else to do.
I got up at 215AM Tuesday to use the bathroom and heard the heater running so figured electricity had been restored and my wife got up at that moment and told me that the power came back at 1AM. So, we were not inconvenienced for very long on that account.
At 112OAM Tuesday, the water provider transmitted a robo-call advising residents of our semi-rural subdivision to boil water and I took that to indicate that water service had been restored. I was very wrong. Here it is 250PM Wednesday and we are still without running water and the water company has advised that the pipe from the well to the filtration device was frozen and has not completely thawed so there is no water.
I lived in Alaska between August, 1966, and July, 1968, during my brief Army career, and in January, 1967, while in the field playing war games, I went for seven days without going to the "toilet" because all that was available was a one-hole outhouse without a door. On the seventh day, the Lord commanded "Let there be movement" and I obeyed with great reluctance and hesitation because the ambient air temperature at that moment was -70F but I did so and was in and out in 18 seconds. It was a near-religious experience for me.
We're doing all right and have our fingers and toes crossed that water service will be restored very soon because we have not had showers since Saturday evening nor have I shaved since then. The kitchen sink is piled high with dishes so filthy that only live steam and kerosene will cleanse them. The dirty clothes basket is overflowing and the only positive note is that the refrigerator remains well-stocked and out cat is doing a marvelous job of foraging for little furry critters that, when properly seasoned and microwaved, are relatively tasty.
I was awake when I heard the heat go off at 2 a.m. on Monday. My immediate thought was, "Uh oh. That didn't sound good." Sure enough, when I looked out the window, I saw all the lights were out in my hood, including street lights. And it immediately started feeling colder in the house. When I got up later that morning, the power was still out, so I grabbed a cooler and started filling it with food from my fridge. I then placed it in the snow. Normally I hate instant coffee, but I was glad I had some on hand. I have a gas stove and could just boil some water for the coffee and make instant oatmeal. I was also very grateful that my mom once gifted me and my sisters with hand-cranked dynamo radios and flashlights. I could get the news on KUT (and entertain myself for a few minutes looking for weird-ass sound wave stations). But after 36 hours without power, and with my mobile phone and battery charger running out of juice, I decided to hit the road and drive to a friend's place. My little Subaru Impreza has all-wheel drive so I had a slight advantage over some of the other cars on the road. I also was taught to start pumping the brakes well before you reach a stop sign and red light in case you slide on ice. What should be a 10-minute drive ended up taking 30 minutes. This morning, my neighbor texted me that the power in our hood had come back on. It may be another day or two before I try driving again on these roads (the city can't even bother salting them). I'm afraid to go home and find pipes broken. But at least there's power back at my house. For now anyway.
We had no power for close to 60 hrs straight. We have a gas stove so could cook, we have a fireplace, and were on the verge of furniture burning, but a friend gave us a few small cords of wood, which we shared with a neighbor. We just got power back around 1 today, expect it to go off again, but was able to take a shower, we were stinky! Overall grateful for what we have.
You all have been in my prayers. The horror stories coming out of Texas are all heartbreaking and my heart is always in TX. A storm is headed to PA tomorrow and I'm hoping it pans out better than what we are seeing in other areas of the country. Thinking of all of you in TX and I feel so helpless.
7) it’s too bad some French dude already invented existentialism. Sitting here in the cold with no electricity, meaning none of my usual distractions, gazing out at the dead, frozen landscape and at the lifeless, zombie-inhabited hulks of my neighbors’ stone dark houses, I feel—comment dirai-je?—like zere ees no meaning to life.
1. Starting to be a bit cold after three days of this. 2) 45 degrees inside the house but at least it’s not dropping anymore. 3) so sick of being lied to by utilities. 4) sick of bullshit Republican free markets and deregulation, which have given us a grid that doesn’t work. 5) sick of being told by Mayor “Cabo” Adler to stop using water. What is next? Stop burning wood in your fireplace? Stop using your gas cooktop? 6) mainly sick of being bored, and the dogs would agree with me on that.
We're lucky, never lost power, in a high-rise in downtown Austin. Have taken in a visiting couple fm Chicago, and am hosting others for hot showers and charging phones. Your heart goes out to those alone, cold, in the dark. I've been through multiple weeklong power outages up north over the years, but this seems so much worse, because people down here don't have any of the basics -- salt, snow shovels, generators -- that get Northerners through things like this.
Down here in Conroe, 42 miles due north of Houston, the storm arrived as expected and we lost power at 1120AM Monday and the water service was interrupted at 2PM Monday, making things more difficult. We got candles out and distributed them throughout the house and, given that it is just my wife and I at home these days, we piled lotsa blankets on the bed and when darkness began to descend, we went to bed at 7PM because there was nothing else to do.
I got up at 215AM Tuesday to use the bathroom and heard the heater running so figured electricity had been restored and my wife got up at that moment and told me that the power came back at 1AM. So, we were not inconvenienced for very long on that account.
At 112OAM Tuesday, the water provider transmitted a robo-call advising residents of our semi-rural subdivision to boil water and I took that to indicate that water service had been restored. I was very wrong. Here it is 250PM Wednesday and we are still without running water and the water company has advised that the pipe from the well to the filtration device was frozen and has not completely thawed so there is no water.
I lived in Alaska between August, 1966, and July, 1968, during my brief Army career, and in January, 1967, while in the field playing war games, I went for seven days without going to the "toilet" because all that was available was a one-hole outhouse without a door. On the seventh day, the Lord commanded "Let there be movement" and I obeyed with great reluctance and hesitation because the ambient air temperature at that moment was -70F but I did so and was in and out in 18 seconds. It was a near-religious experience for me.
We're doing all right and have our fingers and toes crossed that water service will be restored very soon because we have not had showers since Saturday evening nor have I shaved since then. The kitchen sink is piled high with dishes so filthy that only live steam and kerosene will cleanse them. The dirty clothes basket is overflowing and the only positive note is that the refrigerator remains well-stocked and out cat is doing a marvelous job of foraging for little furry critters that, when properly seasoned and microwaved, are relatively tasty.
I was awake when I heard the heat go off at 2 a.m. on Monday. My immediate thought was, "Uh oh. That didn't sound good." Sure enough, when I looked out the window, I saw all the lights were out in my hood, including street lights. And it immediately started feeling colder in the house. When I got up later that morning, the power was still out, so I grabbed a cooler and started filling it with food from my fridge. I then placed it in the snow. Normally I hate instant coffee, but I was glad I had some on hand. I have a gas stove and could just boil some water for the coffee and make instant oatmeal. I was also very grateful that my mom once gifted me and my sisters with hand-cranked dynamo radios and flashlights. I could get the news on KUT (and entertain myself for a few minutes looking for weird-ass sound wave stations). But after 36 hours without power, and with my mobile phone and battery charger running out of juice, I decided to hit the road and drive to a friend's place. My little Subaru Impreza has all-wheel drive so I had a slight advantage over some of the other cars on the road. I also was taught to start pumping the brakes well before you reach a stop sign and red light in case you slide on ice. What should be a 10-minute drive ended up taking 30 minutes. This morning, my neighbor texted me that the power in our hood had come back on. It may be another day or two before I try driving again on these roads (the city can't even bother salting them). I'm afraid to go home and find pipes broken. But at least there's power back at my house. For now anyway.
We had no power for close to 60 hrs straight. We have a gas stove so could cook, we have a fireplace, and were on the verge of furniture burning, but a friend gave us a few small cords of wood, which we shared with a neighbor. We just got power back around 1 today, expect it to go off again, but was able to take a shower, we were stinky! Overall grateful for what we have.
You all have been in my prayers. The horror stories coming out of Texas are all heartbreaking and my heart is always in TX. A storm is headed to PA tomorrow and I'm hoping it pans out better than what we are seeing in other areas of the country. Thinking of all of you in TX and I feel so helpless.
7) it’s too bad some French dude already invented existentialism. Sitting here in the cold with no electricity, meaning none of my usual distractions, gazing out at the dead, frozen landscape and at the lifeless, zombie-inhabited hulks of my neighbors’ stone dark houses, I feel—comment dirai-je?—like zere ees no meaning to life.
1. Starting to be a bit cold after three days of this. 2) 45 degrees inside the house but at least it’s not dropping anymore. 3) so sick of being lied to by utilities. 4) sick of bullshit Republican free markets and deregulation, which have given us a grid that doesn’t work. 5) sick of being told by Mayor “Cabo” Adler to stop using water. What is next? Stop burning wood in your fireplace? Stop using your gas cooktop? 6) mainly sick of being bored, and the dogs would agree with me on that.