Sometimes my erstwhile quiet neighborhood sounds like a war zone. Explosions happen out of nowhere. It's not guns, though. The little subdivision I live in was built in about 1972, and I think all of the infrastructure is still the original equipment. About 2 to 3 times a week something in our local electric grid, probably a transformer, blows up, and it sounds like dynamite going off. In fact, one blew up just before I started this blog. I know that's what it is, because the lights blink, and my UPS alarm sounds, just for a moment.
Well, sometimes just for a moment. Saturday morning, while my Honey was trying to prepare breakfast, it happened again. This time, it took out the whole subdivision! Kind of hard to use an electric stove with no electricity.
Breakfast is my meal. I can get by 5 days a week with a light breakfast, but I can never go without breakfast completely. Not usually a problem since I've been making breakfast for both of us on workdays. Weekends, however, the kitchen belongs to my Honey, and she usually fixes us a big breakfast. Needless to say, the inconsiderate behavior of the electric grid put the onus on that!
Luckily, there's an IHOP only a couple of blocks away, and guess what? According to their rules, I'm eligible for their senior menu! Anyway, a medium-sized mushroom and green pepper omelet with Swiss cheese, four links of breakfast sausage, and two pancakes with blueberry syrup, went a long way toward making me feel better. By the time we got back home, the power had been restored.
Mariner.
No comments:
Post a Comment