Last night there was a power cut.
The electricity had been playing up somewhat all day, and amid the stiff gales of dusk, something must have snapped and the houses of our lane was plunged into darkness.
Yes it has been all rather dramatic.
At first, we did what all Brits do in a crisis, we ambled around to each others houses and grumbled a bit, but after neighbour Mike ( who had the only working land line) had complained to the authorities, we all shuffled off to our respective abodes in order to light candles and stoke up the fires.
It was all remarkably good natured.
I grabbed a flask and popped to animal helper Pat's house up on the main road, in order to use her kettle. I had a few coconut macaroons hidden away, so the prospect of coffee and biscuits by candlelight seemed all rather civilised , and after a short bout of organisation, the dogs and I settled down to a pleasant old fashioned and gadget free evening.
The book I chose to read was 'Summer Crossing' by Truman Capote, which is his 'lost novel'. I am enjoying it too, even though, last night, I ended up listening to the sounds of the wind around the gable end rather more than i was concentrating on the antics of his heroine Grady McNeil.
It's funny what you notice when you are not listening to music, watching TV or reading some blog or other.
I heard the wind howling across the field, the strange cries of a romancing vixen down the felin and above all the steady sleepy breathing rhythm of three dogs and a cat who were all laid out in front of the fire in the candlelight.
All in all, it was an incredibly peaceful evening.
And thereby lies a lesson to us all.........