Hurricane Sandy put one and a half feet of water in our basement.
Then she blew up our breaker box.
Since I left my galoshes at home today, I didn’t trek over to look at it, but my husband claims that, basically, it turned to ash. There is no good reason why our house didn’t burn to the ground.
My husband had gone to the house on Thursday to give it a once-over to check for damage. It looked good. Then this morning, while he was shoveling up some remaining plaster, a chunk fell to the basement . . . and splashed.
Thank God for grace and Plan B, for good things that happen for no reason, for volunteer fire departments, for plumbers and electricians and fathers-in-law and other people who know what they’re doing. And for decisions made easy – we weren’t sure if we should replace the breaker box. There are more fun things to replace than these, but it’s nice to add to the “worthy splurge” list – otherwise known as “the list of things that shouldn’t go wrong right after we move in.”
The biggest inconvenience, besides the price tag, is that we don’t have electricity to work after dark – which will pretty much be all the time after daylight savings ends tonight. We’re taking it as a sign to take a break. Take a nap. Phone a friend. Hit the gym for old time’s sake.
And then we’ll get back to work, take a cue from our house. Our house is 74 years old and still standing up to hurricanes. We’d like to be half as tenacious as she is.
Speaking of tenacious, I finally convinced my husband (slowly, subtly chipped away till he thought it was his idea) to start a blog. He writes, too. Anticipate fewer, deeper, more articulate and more poetic posts; he thinks more and talks less than I do.