2026-01-27

I took my shoes off out of habit. The floors felt icy though my socks as I shuffled around filling my milk crate with supplies. Peanuts, toilet paper, dog food, winter boots. I shut off the breaker for the tankless water heater and drained it. Nola from across the street told me it was better to turn that on manually once power was restored so that it didn't run without water -- the whole street had helped each other turn off the water main at the street and bleed the lines the best we could. 

What a mess. Three days in and only one sighting of a NES truck. Dog and I did a long loop that night with a headlamp, dodging downed lines in neighborhoods completely shrouded in darkness. The kind of city dark I wish we had for stargazing, but I was too preoccupied to remember to look up.  The distant whine of generators ruined the peace. 

I've started making cardboard furniture for my daughter - well for her little handmade mouse dad and his three mousling triplets. Almost splurged on a handcrafted dollhouse only catastrophe could make reasonably priced, but opted to buy the mice and make the rest at the last minute. 

What a mess. How could recover be so slow? How could vulnerable households be so unsupported by the state? If not for mutual aid I'm not sure where we'd be, or where my older single neighbors would be. What a mess. 

We are entering day four with no expectation of when power and heat will be restored. Over 100,000 households.