Some high winds came through town this past Sunday evening.  There were tornadoes nearby.  The sirens went off and we scooped C out of his crib and all hung out in the basement watching the lightning flash and the trashcans fly away.

At some point during the storm, the lightbulbs and the news we were watching went out. They stayed out for about a day. And so, we bought ice to chill our perishables and made a run to Wendy’s for dinner.  We left the blinds open until it was black outside, then lit up the house with candles and dug out the flashlights. We chatted with neighbors outside. I read a book by candlelight.

I loved the adventure…and the "back to basics" feel.  If it had lasted for a week, surely I would have grown antsy.  And, I was concerned that our fridge full of food was going to go bad.  But, it was so nice to be rid of our modern day "conveniences" for a brief period of time–nice to have to walk down the street to talk to a neighbor instead of picking up the phone; nice to read a book instead of a blog; nice to look outside and have everything all around be absolutely pitch black.  (Mind you, we still had hot water and the weather was beautiful. My attitude would have been much less positive, I’m sure, without a hot shower.) We used to lose power on a very regular basis when I was growing up.  I don’t know what it was about my neighborhood, but the wind would blow and the lights would flicker on out. It never really stayed off for long, but we would pull out the candles and play a board game until the return of "normalcy." It always seemed like a big adventure.

I began to doubt my new blogging habit during this hiatus from electricity–hence my slowness in broadcasting this week’s events.  I’ve discovered that I very easily get sucked into the whole blog sub-culture as soon as I turn on the computer.  It takes a lot of time to make my rounds into my friend’s online worlds….time that I could spend, I don’t know, going to see them in person? How strange this world is.  I may become a bit more absent from the horsey tree in an attempt to increase my productivity levels in the real world.

As for this week’s events….C is quite the little eater.  He’s conquered squash and green beans and we’re currently working on prunes….hoping that the prunes will do what prunes are supposed to do because all this new stuff can be tough on a baby boy’s digestion.  The baby boy, by the way, just turned a whopping EIGHT MONTHS old.  I’ll here refrain from bursting into the chorus of "Sunrise, Sunset" and simply say that I no longer wonder at weepy mothers watching their little ones grow up.  Yes, I realize eight-months-old is not exactly "grown up" but it’s a mere four months shy of a YEAR  which is a mere 17 years shy of 18 YEARS and, my goodness, what happens then?

C has hit the separation anxiety stage.  He burst into tears twice today when being held by friends. He is not yet crawling. He is becoming more rebellious and "drops" a toy for the fun of it and fusses when momma does not jump to immediately pick it up. He appears to be cutting his upper teeth as there are two large bumps protruding from his gums. He likes to bite things. It’s great when the things he bites are teething toys. He thinks "no" is a very funny word.