How does that old saying go? You don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone?

Well, that has never been more true for me than it was this past week. If you’ve seen the news, then you may know about the storms that hit the St. Louis area. I was one of the unlucky people who lost power on Wednesday and didn’t get it back for eight days.

On that first night, I was unconcerned. Storms knock the power out for a few hours every now and then. On Thursday, the entrance to my subdivision was lit up like a Christmas tree. The smile on my face quickly faded when I turned onto my street. The left side of the street had electricity, and the right side did not. I was pissed.

A new storm front hit on Friday, and my hopes of seeing light before the end of the next week were gone.

I lived through the weekend like a hobo. The baby and I slept in the basement and stayed out all day in air-conditioned locations (Did I forget to mention that it was 95 – 100 degrees everyday?) I rode around all day with my mother, who stopped at every gas station and convenience store in a 20-mile radius looking for a bag of ice. The few gas stations with electricity had mile-long lines and empty coolers where ice had been.

I was to start a week of vacation on Monday, and there was no way that I was sitting in a dark, hot house for seven days. I packed up the baby and headed to Kansas City. My friend Bev and her dog, Taylor, were gracious hosts to a pair of blackout refugees. We sucked up their air-conditioning for five days.

By Thursday night, my power had returned. Elyse and I came home Friday. The porch light was on, and it was 2:00 in the afternoon. It looked beautiful.

I have since used almost every appliance in the house. I spent the past few hours sitting on the sofa in light and coolness. They were the best hours of my vacation.

Oh, my dear electricity, please don’t leave me again. I don’t know what I’d do without you.