Almost Just Like In The Old Days

One of the pleasures of 21st century life in a 17th century building is that you can pretend to know what life was like back when, while enjoying all the modern coveniences. Indoor plumbing. Electricity. Hot water. Refrigeration. Television. High-speed wireless Internet access. Cooking on gas.

All these were unimaginable comforts for the farmers who threw up these stone walls seeking little more than shelter from the elements for themselves and for the animals that provided them with labor, food and even warmth. Today we take all these comforts for granted . . . until they go away.

Saturday, January 24, a windstorm with hurricane force winds swept across southwest France. An otherwise ordinary winter morning turned suddenly and violently gusty, and then the wind began blowing in earnest. But whoever threw up these stone walls must have done a pretty good job because some 400 years later we were snug inside, hardly aware that a storm was raging except when the odd gust rattled down the chimney.

Then the lights went out. Electrical outages are not unknown in these parts, but they usually last a few seconds, or a few minutes. This time the power stayed off.

Of course, we still had indoor plumbing, but with an electric water heater all remaining hot water was to be saved for showers the next day. We still had food, but to maximize the time that the food in the refrigerator stayed fresh the refrigerator door had to stay shut except as absolutely necessary. Leaning on the open refrigerator door while pondering what to snack on was out, and to a hungry stomach the next mealtime seemed a long way off. Because we have a gas stove (ever so much more convenient than an open hearth), we were still able to cook and to heat small amounts of water. We have wood burning fireplace, so those rooms where the heat reaches stayed warm.

Light however, was limited to what came through the windows, and darkness fell around 5:30 p.m. After that, the only light was from candles and flashlights. The television, DVD player, Playstation, computers, Internet connection and stereo system were all out of commission, so children unaccustomed to long quiet evenings by the fire with a good book fidgeted because there was "nothing to do." Morning seemed a long way off, and we could start to imagine what it must have been like to sit in this stone house by the fire every night until heading upstairs to a cold bedroom for an early bed time when the candle burned low.

We also imagined that the reason we woke before dawn was the mooing of a cow downstairs; it was probably the meowing of the cats. In any event it was still dark, and a candle or flashight was needed to make use of the indoor plumbing. The electric coffee maker was useless, so we made a cup of tea on the gas stove, stoked the fire and sat by it for a while, and then cooked breakfast by candle light. When it finally got light enough outside we went out to "work in the fields" clearing fallen trees off the driveway.

So, for 30-odd hours, we had just a taste of things as they must have been in the early history of our house, when life revolved around food and warmth and physical labor and not much else, and when days were regulated by the rising and setting of the sun. We certainly didn't suffer, but we were glad when the power came back on. We made a pot of coffee, opened the refrigerator to look for a snack, checked our email, browsed the news online, and telephoned friends to see how they'd come through the storm. ... read more ...