At around 230 in the morning, while I was asleep, a car zoomed past the house, ran the stop sign just down the way, crashed into a utility pole and took out the neighborhood's power. I slept through it, and amazingly so did Sketch. The driver was drunk, and his passenger split the scene. I learned all this later, after waking up to a cold, powerless house. It took over ten hours to get the power back, and now the heat is blasting, trying to warm up this place. After I learned what had happened, I grabbed the dog and we went cruising with the car heater up high. Then I came home, Sketch found his usual spot of sun on the bed, and I raked leaves to Chris Connor and friends. Then I got cold again and took another cruise with the car heat up. This time, I came home and the power returned -- which is now.
Everything in this damn house depends on power, including my piano. Apparently no one was hurt from the accident. Maybe he came from the nearby titty bar at closing time.
I still feel cold but the house should get warm soon.
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