Hunkered down

 

Shropshire unusually made the national news his week, as the Midlands took an overnight battering during Storm Goretti. Just after 10pm on Thursday night, there was a local power cut, then the snow arrived - brief but heavy, and fierce winds. The temperature has been barely above  freezing for days, so I huddled under my quilt and blankets, trying to sleep and hoping to find the power back on when I surfaced in the morning.

It hadn’t. So the first thing to do was to get the fire going. The cold was a nuisance, but as I don’t have central heating I am quite used to being a little chilly. Of course, the first thing to do was to boil some water for some much needed coffee. I sacrificed a little old enamel pan to the glowing coals, deciding to worry about the soot stains later. 

So with a fire going steadily and a hot drink inside me, I popped out to see how Jean and Brian-next-door were doing. They had a fire going that put my frugal effort to shame and were cheerfully getting on with things. Another neighbour called while I was there, to check in and make sure we were all ok and had the means to heat water and enough food. There aren’t many households here, so we stick together at times like this. Thankfully, phones were just about working, so many of us were chatting over WhatsApp. As far as we knew, we might not be reconnected until Saturday or even Sunday night.

I had cooked a tray of baked potatoes the night before, so I wrapped a couple in foil and left them to one side of the fire, to heat through for lunch, while I went out for a little walk and to visit another neighbour. What happiness, to return to hot potatoes, adding butter, sea salt and a little cracked black pepper for a simple feast. 

Later, I unearthed a futon mattress and made up camp in front of the wood burner. My main concern was occupying myself while the light was poor and dwindling. Full of buttery potatoes, I had a nap and then spent a couple of hours working with my sketch book until late afternoon, when I could barely see. I had a couple of candles, but nothing that would give me enough light to read or work by properly. Then my phone started bleeping with jubilant messages; a nearby village had been reconnected and soon our individual households were restored, to much rejoicing and relief. 

In the end I decided to stay downstairs by the fire for the night, as upstairs the cottage felt like a fridge; during the really cold weather, I leave a portable heater on in my bedroom. It’s set very low, so as not to use too much electric, but enough to take the edge off the chill. With a hot water bottle, this gets me through the winter. But I decided I would sacrifice comfort for warmth on this night. And indeed, my back was aching in the morning, after a restless sleep, on a thin mattress on top of hard quarry tiles. But oh, the pleasure in being able to boil the kettle for the all important first drink of the day, drinking it by the fire, while being watched by the robin as it peered curiously into my ramshackle home.