High winds once again buffeted the Pacific Northwest. This time we lost power in the late morning. We had heat from our wood stove, as well as water, though no hot water for showers. We ate out of cans (after finding the manual can opener.) To save refrigerated food, we opened the refrigerator as little as possible. We had internet service for a while, then lost it.

We lighted the kerosene lamps, played scrabble, and read books. I was aware of our blessings, that what we had to eat would be a feast to some in the world.

We woke expectantly the next morning—but still no power.

Dressed in yesterday’s grubby clothes—the latest in power outage chic—I dashed a couple of blocks to the library. I entered with a dozen or so others as soon as it opened. The library shares a generator with City Hall. During power outages, the mayor invites the town to the library to charge devices and stay warm.

As soon as I got enough power, the news came online on my iPad. I realized then the blessing of that news free bubble I had been in for the past twenty-four hours.

I learned that the supposedly most powerful nation in the world couldn’t agree on a budget to pay its bills. Our government was shutting down while legislators recessed for Christmas and hurried home for the holidays.

Essential federal employees worked without pay as the president complained of not being able to make it to his Florida retreat.

James Mattis, secretary of defense, had announced his resignation over disagreement with the president on Syria. Ditto Brett McGurk, the special envoy in the fight against ISIS, the terrorist organization in the Middle East.

Meanwhile, it was practically old home week in the library as other residents arrived to join friends, embrace, and share stories. Somebody said a town up the road had just gained power.

Ah, the blessings of community in a world falling apart.