A Quiet Day

We prepare for another day without electricity. Gerry backs the cars out of the garage (the automatic garage door won’t open with no power), I think about what to take out of the refrigerator so we won’t have to open it while it’s off, fill water bottles (yeah, I know we could drink tap water, but we’ve grown accustomed to the cold filtered water our fridge dispenses), and make sure our Kindles and phones are charged.

Gerry heads out to hike with a small group, and I settle in for a quiet day. There are many things I could do, but I elect to get lost in a book. The dogs and I sit outside in the sunshine, moving to the shade when it feels too warm, and into the house once or twice, mostly because Maya wants to go in for a while.

It’s a lovely, leisurely day.

Gerry arrives home, hot and tired, but with energy enough to wash the car and clean the hot tub. I don’t know how he does it. I chop red onion and peppers and, when the power comes on early, boil pasta to make a cold salad for the next day.

We sit outside chatting while the dogs provide entertainment, enjoy a light supper of leftovers, and watch an episode of a British detective series on Acorn TV. The day ends early with books. It’s been a good one.


I’m a writer, reader, and creative. I thought by now I’d have things figured out, but I keep coming up with more questions. I think that’s okay. I’m here most mornings pondering ordinary things.

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