Over At the Frankenstein Place

Pretty Buckwheat is smart, too.

On Wednesday, I was deliberating on a riddle -

Q: What walks on four legs in the morning, two legs at midday and three legs at twilight?
A: Wrong riddle. Try again.
Q: How much hip pain would keep me from working at the food pantry?
A: Mmmm, exactly as much as I have now.

- while making dinner for my Handsome Husband, and as I was rough-dicing sweet potatoes the power went out. The only light in my kitchen was the flame under an empty pan into which I dropped chopped onions and diced sweet potatoes and dinner turned out fine, but if you’re ever in need of a little heart-pounding excitement, give some thought to dicing root vegetables in the dark.

Speaking of Nature, when is Nature like sharing a room with your sister? Buckwheat knows: when giraffes fight over a blouse!

Buckwheat dislikes the monkey suit!

From inside my house, I could see two lights a few streets away behind the house and a street light two blocks in front, so I knew the outage was local. I lit some candles and protected them from curious cats with one hand while calling my sisters at the family store six blocks away and not in the dark with the other. Pete and I ate steamed pork bao dipped in fragrant sauces, washed the dishes and settled in to hours of talking, knitting and writing by candlelight in our living room. The lights came on as I dialed Siobhan to discuss jarring applesauce in the dark, which I was about to do. I was almost disappointed to be able to see what I was doing.

Thursday morning, I barked at my boss Gianna, who lives two blocks from me, “What did you do last night?” She looked at me quizzically. “Power failure from 6 to 9?” I hinted.

“We didn’t have a power failure last night,” she said, “but don’t feel bad. We have one every day. The power goes out and everything blinks. We stopped resetting our clocks years ago.”

Knowing Who To Cling To

Miss Sasha casually mentioned North Dakota was enjoying a blizzard yesterday, so it should come as no surprise that last night the power went out in the tiny New Jersey town just as I started dinner. I made dinner, then called Miss Sasha to tell her the depth of sympathy, which was insufficient. Panky had just tossed his dinner on the floor.