This post was supposed to be published on Sunday – the day of my blog’s official first birthday.
However, aside from a celebration, the picture above eerily represents recent events – and I’m not talking about the cupcake!
I’ll start from the beginning and hope to make sense.
Last week, our neighbourhood experienced a total blackout.
One minute, the boys and I were watching a show, the next, there was an erratic flickering of lights, an atmospheric surge that seemed to come from nowhere, yet everywhere. Smoke poured out of the DVD player and the TV sputtered out in spectacular fashion. There was a huge electric “crackle”, then, a loud bang rang out across the forest.
And everything went black.
Shouts of panic were heard across the way.
As we called out in the darkness to the neighbours, they yelled back that their electrical fuse/meter box was aflame and beneath their house had caught on fire.
People spilled out onto the street. Confused, shocked, their children scared.
Sirens wailed and emergency services arrived shortly after. Fire department, police, and an ambulance for the neighbour who inhaled smoke as he tried to put out the electrical fire – with water.
Quite a few homes’ meter boxes were charred black. We raced throughout the house, turning off power and switched off the mains.
The rest of the night was spent by candle light – romantic at any other time.
Electricity wasn’t restored until the next afternoon. We lost a few appliances, but, we consider ourselves fortunate, as some of the neighbours had fared worse.
However, our computer copped some damage, has been on the fritz and rather glitchy, with weird whirring, clicking noises, so it’ll probably need an overhaul or replacement.
Then, two days ago, I was composing a new post in my head whilst vacuuming the house when,
I was almost electrocuted by a faulty cord.
What a scary occurrence.
The machine is not that old, and the cord previously showed no obvious external signs of wear.
But hubby now says that where it was situated on the machine, is a design fault.
It’s one of those backpack vacs. Sitting snug against the back and tightly secured around the waist by a firm buckle.
As I vacuumed, it began cutting in and out. Before I could reach around to turn it off, electrical sparks shot out past my head onto the carpet. A tingling hum and the stench of burnt electrical assaulted my senses.
There I was, with a live, potentially dangerous device, attached to my body! I fumbled with the buckle in a panic to get the bloody thing off my back and away from me.
It really is amazing how time seems to slow down as thoughts run through one’s head in moments like these. Mere micro seconds are magically long enough to formulate and process coherent thoughts.
They ranged from the concerned to the ridiculous.
Things like, "how will my boys do without me if I die right here, right now?", "will I have time to shut the door so Jack can't be hurt too?", "who will find me first?", "I will miss my son’s end of year recital". And, "hubby's shirts haven't been hung up to dry yet".
To, "oh no, I’ll never see the conclusion to Breaking Bad and Dexter, nor season 4 of The Walking Dead and Game of Thrones".
Then, I worried about who will know where to pick up Jack’s arthritis meds? Finish the glazing I’ve begun?
And, “crap, did it have to happen when I’m wearing my baked bean breakfast stained tee-shirt and old, holey undies?”
Good grief!
And why oh why, did various phrases to fit on this bloody poster keep coming to me?
Like, Keep Calm and Don’t Die/Panic/Overreact/Freak Out/Call Batman - insert relevant text here :D
With the vac finally off me, and with my heart racing, I realised I had a possible very close call, as I saw the now melted and exposed part of the cord was just centimetres from my skin.
And the RCD, or house circuit breaker, failed to work. Did the previous blackout have anything to do with this?
The power was still on. The vacuum cleaner lead, still, "live".
The sad irony, which didn’t escape me at the time, was that my mother died whilst vacuuming. Although, not from electrocution, but a pulmonary embolism, which quickly took her life.
At almost the same age as I am now.
Shivers.
I feel a little foolish writing this, as we were fairly lucky with the blackout and, I’m still standing – thank you Elton John.
It seems rather trivial now. It wasn't a natural disaster or dreadful accident that befalls so many people throughout the world.
Just a “local event” and a near miss.
Shared here, with friends.
Some of my blog friends have been dealing with illness, major surgery and the sad loss of their beloved, loyal, tail-wagging best friends.
My heart goes out to each of you. And a wish that I could give you all healing hugs xx.
A year ago, and with a little encouraging push from a new dear friend across the deep blue sea, I ventured into blogland.
A journey I’ll never regret.
For there - here - resides a wonderful community of people who share their lives.
With them, we laugh, we cry, we rejoice in the happy times and commiserate in the sad.
It’s a very personal, and sometimes vulnerable, thing to do, “putting oneself out there”.
I think of the often asked question, “If you could have a dinner party with anyone, dead or alive, real or imagined, who would you choose?”
I would pass on celebrities or dignitaries or historical figures.
I’d choose the lovely people I have met and grown fond of over this past year.
I’m sure sitting around the table would feel as though old friends were catching up for food, drink and great conversation.
You are all so very special.
As I reflect back on the past blogging year, I want to thank you all... for opening your doors and your hearts.
And, I am grateful that you visit me here, and for all your sweet comments that I cherish.
However, aside from a celebration, the picture above eerily represents recent events – and I’m not talking about the cupcake!
I’ll start from the beginning and hope to make sense.
Last week, our neighbourhood experienced a total blackout.
One minute, the boys and I were watching a show, the next, there was an erratic flickering of lights, an atmospheric surge that seemed to come from nowhere, yet everywhere. Smoke poured out of the DVD player and the TV sputtered out in spectacular fashion. There was a huge electric “crackle”, then, a loud bang rang out across the forest.
And everything went black.
Shouts of panic were heard across the way.
As we called out in the darkness to the neighbours, they yelled back that their electrical fuse/meter box was aflame and beneath their house had caught on fire.
People spilled out onto the street. Confused, shocked, their children scared.
Sirens wailed and emergency services arrived shortly after. Fire department, police, and an ambulance for the neighbour who inhaled smoke as he tried to put out the electrical fire – with water.
Quite a few homes’ meter boxes were charred black. We raced throughout the house, turning off power and switched off the mains.
The rest of the night was spent by candle light – romantic at any other time.
Electricity wasn’t restored until the next afternoon. We lost a few appliances, but, we consider ourselves fortunate, as some of the neighbours had fared worse.
However, our computer copped some damage, has been on the fritz and rather glitchy, with weird whirring, clicking noises, so it’ll probably need an overhaul or replacement.
Then, two days ago, I was composing a new post in my head whilst vacuuming the house when,
I was almost electrocuted by a faulty cord.
What a scary occurrence.
The machine is not that old, and the cord previously showed no obvious external signs of wear.
But hubby now says that where it was situated on the machine, is a design fault.
It’s one of those backpack vacs. Sitting snug against the back and tightly secured around the waist by a firm buckle.
As I vacuumed, it began cutting in and out. Before I could reach around to turn it off, electrical sparks shot out past my head onto the carpet. A tingling hum and the stench of burnt electrical assaulted my senses.
There I was, with a live, potentially dangerous device, attached to my body! I fumbled with the buckle in a panic to get the bloody thing off my back and away from me.
It really is amazing how time seems to slow down as thoughts run through one’s head in moments like these. Mere micro seconds are magically long enough to formulate and process coherent thoughts.
They ranged from the concerned to the ridiculous.
Things like, "how will my boys do without me if I die right here, right now?", "will I have time to shut the door so Jack can't be hurt too?", "who will find me first?", "I will miss my son’s end of year recital". And, "hubby's shirts haven't been hung up to dry yet".
To, "oh no, I’ll never see the conclusion to Breaking Bad and Dexter, nor season 4 of The Walking Dead and Game of Thrones".
Then, I worried about who will know where to pick up Jack’s arthritis meds? Finish the glazing I’ve begun?
And, “crap, did it have to happen when I’m wearing my baked bean breakfast stained tee-shirt and old, holey undies?”
Good grief!
And why oh why, did various phrases to fit on this bloody poster keep coming to me?
Like, Keep Calm and Don’t Die/Panic/Overreact/Freak Out/Call Batman - insert relevant text here :D
With the vac finally off me, and with my heart racing, I realised I had a possible very close call, as I saw the now melted and exposed part of the cord was just centimetres from my skin.
And the RCD, or house circuit breaker, failed to work. Did the previous blackout have anything to do with this?
The power was still on. The vacuum cleaner lead, still, "live".
The sad irony, which didn’t escape me at the time, was that my mother died whilst vacuuming. Although, not from electrocution, but a pulmonary embolism, which quickly took her life.
At almost the same age as I am now.
Shivers.
I feel a little foolish writing this, as we were fairly lucky with the blackout and, I’m still standing – thank you Elton John.
It seems rather trivial now. It wasn't a natural disaster or dreadful accident that befalls so many people throughout the world.
Just a “local event” and a near miss.
Shared here, with friends.
Some of my blog friends have been dealing with illness, major surgery and the sad loss of their beloved, loyal, tail-wagging best friends.
My heart goes out to each of you. And a wish that I could give you all healing hugs xx.
A year ago, and with a little encouraging push from a new dear friend across the deep blue sea, I ventured into blogland.
A journey I’ll never regret.
For there - here - resides a wonderful community of people who share their lives.
With them, we laugh, we cry, we rejoice in the happy times and commiserate in the sad.
It’s a very personal, and sometimes vulnerable, thing to do, “putting oneself out there”.
I think of the often asked question, “If you could have a dinner party with anyone, dead or alive, real or imagined, who would you choose?”
I would pass on celebrities or dignitaries or historical figures.
I’d choose the lovely people I have met and grown fond of over this past year.
I’m sure sitting around the table would feel as though old friends were catching up for food, drink and great conversation.
You are all so very special.
As I reflect back on the past blogging year, I want to thank you all... for opening your doors and your hearts.
And, I am grateful that you visit me here, and for all your sweet comments that I cherish.
So...
here’s looking at you, kids.
And, I hope my blog's next birthday will be a little less, um, eventful :)
♥
