Living in the Past

I came home from work yesterday (Thursday) afternoon to find that the electricity was off; not really surprising in view of the gales. I rang up to report it - just one of 50,000 in the area (our outage, it transpires, was caused by tree blowing over a couple of miles away). I continue totally unsurprised.

I had decided to do my weekend shopping on the way home. (Do you know how difficult it is trying to wheel a shopping trolley across a carpark when the wind is determined to blow you, it, all the shopping and the car doors into the neighbouring lake?) By some good chance I decided on the lazy option of buying two ready-cooked chickens. Less fortunate was the quantity of milk and fruit juice I was taking home to a temporarily fridge-less house: still, it was also an unheated house apart from the sitting room fire.

So we ate chicken salad by candlelight, and made tea on my little gas-ring which I take on picnics to the delight of my tea-loving friends and the embarrassment of my niece and god-children (the problem may be the whistling kettle rather than the gas-ring itself). Afterwards I stacked the dishwasher as I saw no point in boiling water in order to wash-up when it's too dark see whether you are getting the pots clean or not, then we settled down in the sitting room to listen to the radio (father) and read (me).

It was at this point that I really appreciated the way our Victorian forebears arranged their parlours with chairs around a pedestal table with a lamp in the centre. Nowadays we tend to think of it as a tea-table, but it was so much more. The truth is that it is very difficult to find a position in which a light can shine onto the page you are reading except by sitting at a table with your book spread directly under the lamp - then a single candle is sufficient.

Joe has a large collection of candelabras, tea-light holders, candlesticks etc. which lodge with us since Helen hates candles and won't have them in the house (nurse - ITU - seen too many burns victims)., but yesterday that collection came into its own and proved really useful.

Especially these with the glass magnifying the flame and strategically placed mirrors and silver plates reflecting the flame to throw significantly more light into the room.

All this stuff with glasses and mirrors is something I know very well in theory; indeed I quite often talk about this to the children when I am being Mrs. Harding, the Victorian housekeeper at Normanby Hall. However, every time there is a prolonged power-cut I am struck afresh with how much difference these little things make to our comfort.

This morning I had the fun of a strip wash in a cold bathroom instead of my usual nice hot shower: an interesting thought that for generations this was the standard method of keeping clean for six days out of seven. I remember my grandmother telling me about having to wash and dress under her nightdress at boarding school. She also told me about the list of requirements that every girl received before starting school which included, as well as all the standard items of uniform, one score of sanitary towels which in those days really were small towels folded and pinned for use and sent to the laundry every month. (Too much detail? Certainly enough.)

Another of the things I teach is how to use flat-irons. This morning I discovered that I had no warm clothes ironed (I don't feel the cold much and tend to dress for indoor warmth rather than winter cool), and I don't actually own a flat-iron so I put on the least crumpled. Next I phoned the electric people again and learned that we were unlikely to have our power back until this evening or perhaps Saturday, so I heated a kettle of water, got everything out of the dishwasher, and did the washing-up before it started to smell. Then I went out to the garage to chop some wood and hunt for candles. (No, of course we don't keep the car in it!) Replacing the candles it was interesting to see how sooty the glass shades were after just one evening's use and realising what a mucky, greasy daily job cleaning them must have been - especially when you have to boil every drop of water you use. Again, I know the theory, but all day little things like this kept reminding me what a hard slog women used to have keeping their houses clean, and how lucky we are now. (Mind you - I still hate hoovering.) On the other hand people on the local news tonight talking about being without electricity as being 'horendous' and 'a nightmare' are completely OTT - the outage wasn't even long enough for the things in the freezer to start defrosting.

Late in the afternoon, having given young Jack his lesson in the gathering gloom, I was just going to start on cooking dinner on a single gas ring when the burglar alarm went off signifying the return of electric power. So I reset all the clocks - oven, microwave, heating etc. and postponed starting my cooking now everything could be done simultaneously instead of serially.

Sadly the gale has blown down half our ancient lilac tree splitting the trunk; only time will tell if the remainder can survive.

For Liz
More cheerfully I bought this vase in the Matalan sale for a staggering £2.50; I think it looks really good with your flowers in it - much better than the plastic jug which was their temporary home.