Strange Dinner

We were running late yesterday, being Sunday and all that. As I chatted on the cordless phone about 7:30 p.m., I watched the sky blacken, clouds pile up, and the wind blow roughly outside. Lightning make all the house lights flicker, and disrupted the cordless reception. I hung up just as we plunged into darkness.

"Were there any weather bulletins?" I asked the children who had been watching a DVD in the room with our weather radio.
"Yes, there were two, . . . We turned the radio off."
YIII!, I thought, "What did they say?"
"There is a tornado watch and a tornado warning. But the warning's for Ottumwa."
(A mere 25 miles away)
"Go down to the basement! I'll get Mimi!" I said, racing upstairs. The house creaked loudly, like metal rubbing against metal. When I reached the second floor landing, I could feel the floor moving. The house veered strangely.
"Mimi! Come to the basement! Mimi!" I shouted before running downstairs, Mimi racing behind me.

Through a spot of glass in the basement door we could see the wind whirling in great arcs, making haze of the heavy rain.

It felt like an eternity, sitting in he dark listening to the wind. Guy alluded to ghosts (remarks poorly received). Boo sang Amazing Grace, and we all joined in.

The wind decreased within about 20 minutes of the electrical outage. We went upstairs, lit a candle, found a flashlight, reported the electrical outage to our utility company on a cell phone . . . and started waiting. As night settled in for real, it was obvious that we would have to "make do" for dinner -- without opening the refrigerator, or using the stove and microwave.

Guy and I peered into the pantry shelves with a mini-flashlight. Funny how dark and forbidding the deep recesses of the shelves looked . . .

I suggested peanut butter sandwiches -- and was immediately overruled by the teens in the crowd! We settled on Underwood roast beef spread, extended with mustard and chopped dill pickles into a spread. Guy chopped the pickles with a huge knife and great enthusiasm by candlelight. Kelly tried to join him in the fun, leading to the formulation of Mom's First Rule of Cooking:

No fighting over the sharp knife!

The sandwiches were splendid! We washed them down with warm canned V8 juice from the pantry. We practiced creating limericks and short stories by candlelight. Guy brought up ghost stories again.

Mimi's ride came and she left to go back to college. The rest of us camped in the music room. As lightning flashed outside and plastic glow-in-the-dark stars illuminated the ceiling, Boo played great piano classics from memory. Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata never sounded so good!

Food is definitely about the people. And the moment.

The electricity came back on at 6-something this morning.