Flashlight Dinner

“Did you buy the candles?”, he asks.

I look through my shopping bag… damn! My face curls a little – no verbal answer needed. The husband looks at me forgiving, yet a little disappointed.

“It’s not like we are instantly needing them. It’s only Autumn. And we still have the flashlights.”, he says.

“I’m sorry…”, I mumble and start putting the other shopping items away.

“It’s just, I’m not used to this. I’m not used to this complete darkness.”, I jabber while running back and forth in our kitchen. “Buying candles… it simply slips my mind! I mean, it’s not like we live in the middle of nowhere!”

“That’s a matter of opinion.”, says the husband, who just as much as I love living in this little village much more than in any big city.

“Well, sure. But, I mean… blackouts? Every time it’s windy? Every time it snows? Seriously?!”

Our modem has killed itself twice this year. Tragic case of electrocution as the power came back on with… well, a lot of power.

“The cables run above ground, so that’s the logic consequence.”, the husband explains mundane.

“I know…”

I remember last winter, when we sat in the dark many days and I praised our wood stove daily, for it provided warmth and the opportunity to cook – that was the moment the husband and I made the deal never to move into a house without a wood stove. There where candles everywhere, which was in a way romantic, but also very stressful when you have a toddler running loose in your house. Also, your activities are very limited: no music, no TV, no reading (unless you want to ruin your eyes), no shopping (because the shops were without power, too, so they couldn’t serve any customers), no laundry, no nothing… The sun would shine only for a few hours, so spending time outside was pretty limited, too. Moreover very cold.

“Well.”, I say as I am done putting all things away. “I go get our nipper.”

“And I’ll start on our flashlight dinner.”, the husband teases.

I grab my jacket from the wardrobe, pet the dog – who, of course tries to clear out with me – and poke my tongue out at the husband.


Once I read somewhere that this is a Tibetan greeting ritual…



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