On Saturday night the single most terrible thing we can imagine happened at stately IPB Manor: our power went out. At approximately 6:25 p.m., with a violent windstorm raging outside, everything went black. We sat in the darkness for a few moments, stunned, before Boomer rustled up three candles, and we each retreated to our own corners of the manse to cope with the shock of it all in our own personal ways. For some, coping included reading by candlelight. For others, coping was all about cursing the darkness. And so we were as time slowly passed. The Devils game in Toronto started without us. We began to realize there is a reason electric lights were invented in the first place, as reading by candlelight is a pain in the ass. And then we got hungry.
Since we have very few public utilities in our neck of the woods, stately IPB Manor runs almost entirely on electricity. Without power, the pump in our well doesn’t work. Without power, our stove and oven don’t work. Without power, our freezer doesn’t work. At approximately 8:00 p.m. we congregated once more, stomachs growling, candles sputtering, and conferred about what we could do for dinner. There is little in the pantry that doesn’t require some kind of cooking, and no appliances on hand that would work. Then Pookie remembered that, in the dying freezer, there was the better part of an ice cream cake. We fell on it, carving out huge chunks of it with spoons (it was too cold to just dig at with our bare hands), desperate for sustenance. It was then that Boomer suggested we go to a hotel. That’s right, Gentle Reader — after just about 90 minutes without power, we were ready to give in.