 An hour without power. At face value, it doesn't seem like much. But we as a society have become so used to power at the flick of a switch that we feel lost without it. An hour you say? It doesn't seem like much when one turns the lights out for (hopefully) eight hours every night when we get that much needed (and well deserved) shut eye after a full day of chasing little ones around and well... just living.
However, if you think about it, there is never no power somewhere near you in these modern times. It could be as close as your alrm clock or even as far as your closest neighbor in case you happen to a be a super conceitnious crunchy green mama. In which case, you have my deepest admiration.
There are familiies living completely off of the grid, but they still have power of some sort wether it's solar powered, wind propelled, or perhaps person generated as in this case. Something is almost always running and we've grown accustomed to the quiet hum in the background from the computer, the fridge and freezers, even the quiet tick of clocks. So much so that we completely ignore it. Unitl it's gone. And then, it can be... unnerving.
It was certainly an exciting experience last night for my little rugrats when the lights went out for Earth Hour. I grew up in a rural area that frequently expereinced winter blackouts. So I'm an old hand at this and already have a decent supply of oil lamps and candles put by, although, digging this all out tonight showed me that I'd miscalculated on the amound of oil that I had as well as that I'd forgotten ro replace a chimney broken in our last move. Still, it was a novelty for the young of this household. We laid out the rules regarding open sources of flame (the children quikly learned not to touch after sucking on singed digits) and then happily settled down for dinner. Yes, we were quite a bit behind on that. :( Today was very busy and two sick little girls didn't help any.
So, as we ate our simple meal of thick homemade soup & fresh buttered rolls, I reflected on what a blessing power is. Still, I realized that to the children it was a big game as they tried to toast their bread over the flame or Kitty sang happy birthday and tried to blow it out. LOL James just didn't understand why I said no to the query of turning the big overhead lights on.
He could never understand what it's like to literally have no power. Not when he could still hear the refrigerator humming softly to itself, the heater kick on in the background and the sound of a TV from next door. Our society is so far removed from the ancestors of less than two centuries ago that marveled at eletric lights that we have grown complacent and even dependant upon them.
Even as I write this the old fashioned way with pen set to paper and my eyes strain in the flickering glow of a lamp, I can hear the tick of a clock that we forgot to unplug and I wonder if the people who live in a world of excess and are completely reliant on their microwaves, phones, electric clocks, computers, their game consoles & TV, even a refrigerator, will know how to exist in these changing times of an emphasis on less is better. | 
![wind propelled](<p><img height="114" alt="" width="216" align="left" border="0" century="" oil="" src="http://i71.photobucket.com/albums/i150/amis11/forest%20cottage/HerodLampLitRt.jpg" />An hour without power. At face value, it doesn't seem like much. But we as a society have become so used to power at the flick of a switch that we feel lost without it. An hour you say? It doesn't seem like much when one turns the lights out for (hopefully) eight hours every night when we get that much needed (and well deserved) shut eye after a full day of chasing little ones around and well... just living.</p>){kind=link}
