This year’s Tweed Run event in London saw 400 immaculately dressed cyclists gallivanting about the city, soaking up the sunshine and stopping for tea at regular intervals.

I’d love to do something like this, though I think argyll sweaters and multiple tweed layers will be more the order of the day than this:

Which projects to try next?

Already we’re brainstorming which projects to tackle after we’ve finished the Kids Bushcraft, Reinvention Sewing Lounge and Bit Better pilot projects, and we’re thinking bicycles.

Malcolm’s keen on doing a bicycle repair workshop while I’d like to combine it with refurbishing and adding personal style so you absolutely love to get on your bike.

I’m particularly interested in sewing my own panniers and testing out alternatives to toxic waterproof chemicals in all those plastic-coated panniers.

It’s gorgeous outside today, so I’m off for a leisurely cycle down the road to take in the blue sky, cows grazing alongside their calves and the sweet scent of wildflowers on the breeze…

The following are some of their answers, unaltered. I hope it inspires you to take the plunge and join in too! Remember, this coming weekend, starting 23.00 on Friday 19th – flick the switch.

Note – alcohol and fire do NOT mix – accidents will happen. If you are going to get drunk, don’t do this.

What did you enjoy most about the weekend?

The quiet, for both of us, i.e. no fridge, radiator noises, no TV.

Being made to think and value electricity and power rather than just use it because it’s there. We have left the lights off much more this week!

The quiet and knowledge that machines didn’t need to be attended to!

Early to bed and late to rise

All the candles and the secret scent of freedom that comes with no power.

Being released from relying upon clocks and reflexively going online when there are so many other things to do (I read an entire book on Sunday!)

No TV and the peace that came with it. We played pictionary and had fun. Seeing my initially reluctant teenager actively take part. I also quite liked the low lighting from the candles.

Time spent reconnecting with friends, over mulled wine and loud singing and poor guitar playing, oh and devising new ways of doing toast without finger burning. Loved settling in to the early evening with candles and space to think.

The liberation of not checking email!

Difficult to isolate just one thing … I loved the gentle light, I appreciated the daylight more, I loved the calm and quiet, spending quality time with the family without the distraction of the TV, and I really loved the special exciting feeling almost like being on holiday

What did you miss most or find most difficult?

Worrying about the freezer.

Sadly I had to turn the computer back on for work

Heat … I missed heat and hot water.

I really needed to get some work done – so ‘cheated’ by going to someone else’s house to use their power when my laptop battery ran out. So I missed power for my laptop and internet connection the most.

Sometimes balancing the ‘essence’ of the weekend with what needed to happen was difficult – for example we had a flour spill on the carpet during our cooky-making extravaganza, and really there was no choice but to get the dustbuster or else have flour ground into the carpet and strewn about the apartment.

Being able to grab the vacuum when we dropped something, the ability to flick on a light and the convenience that comes with electricity.

Most difficult was finding where I’d left the camera! Didn’t find it too difficult, all in all.

It took a few hours to get used to the lack of immediate light, but that was all really.

I think for me personally I found cooking the most difficult as we don’t have a fire and we were limited to a small camping stove, which was somewhat limiting.

I think the hardest thing was keeping a fire going for heat. I missed my cell more than anything I think.

What tips would you share with others trying this in the future?

Have light sources available for forgetful offspring who come home to a dark house.

Plan your weekend several weeks in advance!

To be honest none – let them find out for themselves.

It’s a good chance to catch up on sleep, or go out and be sociable! Invest in a gas stove!

Begin to make a family aware of activity months in advance – and have resources to run light and heat from non gris sources.

If you’re turning off the fridge/ freezer, don’t go food shopping for at least a week prior. Run out of something in that time? Too bad.

Don’t dismiss it because you can’t do 100% power off. You can still contribute. Something is better than nothing right?

Go for it … lanterns save the worry of naked flames and be sure to tie glow sticks to the dog.

Get a heat source! Our log burner made the whole thing an almost breeze, lots of heat, hot water and cooking facilities!

Organisation is the key, if you plan your meals and empty the fridge and freezer in the run up to the event, you won’t go far wrong.

What advice would you give someone considering doing something like this but unsure if they can actually do it?

Don’t be anxious, don’t take it too seriously, enjoy the experience of living by candlelight etc for a while, finding things to do without electrciity. It’s up to you how you do the weekend.

Go on, give it a go. if you fail like we did you can always flick the switch back on but you’ll appreciate having that switch back on much more than you did before!

Try it for a day, or 24 hours first.

You are in control. GO for it – if it all becomes too much just flip the switch.

Come on – challenge yourself! What really do you have to lose? The benefits far outweigh the discomforts over the course of one weekend.

Baby steps. Stat with something – anything – and build on it.

If you can’t do it all then do what you can. You’d be surprised.

48 hours can be a whole lot of fun. Be creative, get others involved, bring a candle parties are handy – after 48 hours you can say I did it and you will be sooo proud.

It’s two days! What’s to lose?

Go for it! Keep an open mind, be creative, don’t be defeatist and have fun!

As I mentioned in my previous post, I wanted to create a yarn that captured both the colours and feel of this photo:

The lone house waits for the storm to come

I decided to divide the colours into two: grass and sky. My idea is knit it up as a tapestry that will hang from the homemade knitting needles I’ve started doing. This is what the grass looks like so far:

The Coming Storm yarn knitted up, on the bobbin and in fleece form

I’m going for a deliberately very textured look because it shows the colours best and the texture is way more fun than your usual simple yarns. When I first spun it, I had real trouble and it looked messy and like exactly what it was: my first attempt at spinning this kind of yarn. I thought it was a dead loss.

But I’ve started knitting it up and I’m really enjoying it. Since this week I’m doing an exercise from Go Put Your Strengths to Work (more on this once I’ve finished the week and can report on it) where I record every time I’m doing something that makes me “feel strong” — i.e., happy, relaxed, like I could do this forever — I’ve noticed that seeing the final result put together is something I find enormously enjoyable.

I didn’t particularly enjoy almost every other step of the process though, which means I don’t think I’ll be doing a lot of this, at least not everything all myself. But I do know I love the finding the photo and story and mood, selecting the colours, and carding just the right combinations together.

I’ve switched to the sky now and here’s what that looks like in progress:

Adding the sky

What a blast!

When I’m done, I’ll be sure to post a photo so you can see what I mean by a tapestry.

How does anyone make a living from this? Even remotely?

One thing I will say is all the work and the expense brought home to me how enormously difficult it must be to make a living from doing crafts in general, yarn making in particular. I estimate it took me 80 hours to make this yarn and knit it up for a single tapestry so far, so let’s say it’d take me 90 hours all told to make maybe 6 of these things.

Let’s imagine there was a market for it, that people coming to Orkney or who are fond of it and want to be reminded of it and this tapestry strikes a chord for them. What would they realistically pay? £30? £40? And that’s retail. With all the packaging.

If I were lucky enough to sell all 6, I’d make at most £240. For 90 hours of work. Minus the £20 for supplies. So about £2.50 an hour. That just depresses me.

But it’s only a hobby

I know creative types complain about this all the time. Maybe you have to be a genius to get paid well, or be an excellent marketer.

Seems to me most people say “Well, it’s just a hobby.” But let’s face it, money is one of the ways we measure success. Okay, it seems to be one of the ways I measure success, now that I’m thinking about it.

If someone isn’t willing to pay for it, they don’t want it enough and therefore it’s not as good as you’d like it to be.

Money = success

It’s not that I want to be paid for something I do as such, though that’d be nice, I think it’s that I’d like the recognition that someone else thought it was worth something, that it was worth more than the tatty Made in China stuffed puffin toy or plastic Viking cap they otherwise would buy.

I make these yarns and this tapestry because I want to share how these scenes, this mood of calm, of transformation, steals over me by living here in the way we do. And I hope it invokes a similar feeling in the person who has it. That it reminds them every time they look at it of the magic they experienced in Orkney (or imagine when they dream of it).

I used to hear from Malcolm when he would do his driving tours of Orkney that his guests were always looking for souvenirs to buy but not always finding something that really captured how the place really felt to them.

So I wanted to try to make something that does say Orkney to me and that, at least for people who like wool kind of stuff, appeals. And somehow just making it for myself, while fun, isn’t quite enough. But as soon as I imagine going down to the local shops and seeing if I can sell it, I just envision a lot of work, not being paid very much, and the possibility that no one will like it anyway.

Oh no, is this something as cliched as a fear of failure?

Huh. I can see I’m going to have to ponder these things this week and see what solutions I can work out. Well that’s something to look forward to.

My wedding dress looked like this. All I need now is the hat.

Getting started with spinning

When we moved to this house, our landlandy generously left behind her spinning wheel to use and it’s been beckoning to me since then. Problem was, it didn’t seem to be entirely in working order and I didn’t know enough about wheels to know how to fix it.

Then I heard from my friend Victoria about this spinning class and the instructor, Jan, generously came over with her husband Andy to chat with us about spinning and take a look at the wheel. She then took it home with her and gave it a complete overhaul so it could be used. When I offered to pay her, she brushed it aside and it was clear it made her happy just to have the wheel in working order and ready to be loved.

We finally agreed that perhaps I could barter something in return, and I had one of those moments where I reflected on how much I enjoy life when you don’t just pay for everything. You end up having the most amazing interactions with people and doing things you wouldn’t otherwise.

A few weeks on, and I’ve fallen in love with spinning.

So much so, I’ve become obsessed with a new project for Touchwood involving creating my own tweed yarns based on photos of Orkney.

An example of tweed yarn

And not just any tweed yarns, but ones that tell a story. A good yarn, as it were. I’m calling the line “A Tweed’s Tale”.

A Tweed’s Tale: the magic of a good yarn

I love stories, especially imaginative, magical ones, so it only makes sense to combine that with my love of all things wool, of colours and how they work together to create a mood, our vast collection of Orkney photographs, and Malcolm’s knowledge of folklore and history (for those of you who read the Ideation post a few days ago, this is another example of Ideation in action — linking up different ideas to create something new).

The inspirational photo

So I’m taking this photograph as my first inspiration:

The lone house waits for the storm to come

I took it this summer and it’s our view to the southeast (the sea is to the right, out of picture). That house in the distance is abandoned — it’s the grand old house of a great Arctic explorer, John Rae. I can never quite capture the full vivid richness of colour, but at the time I was struck by the powerful mood.

The ominous, forceful rainclouds form a canopy over the cheery, unflagging wildflowers in the meadow. I’m going to call the tweed “The Coming Storm”.

Getting from photo to wool colours

To get from photo to yarn, I first used software called Color Schemer Studio to select the colours I wanted (slightly different photo but same colours):

Sampling colours

Then I take primary colour dyes by Landscape dyes and mix them together to match as closely as possible the photo’s colour. I used a great tutorial to teach me how to do this. So far, I’ve been working on the paler, more subtle colours and have produced these:

Some of the colours for "The Coming Storm" ready to be blended

(That’s snow on the wool, by the way. I got hit by a freak snow shower just as I started to take the shot.)

Uh oh

I’m a bit disturbed because I felt dizzy and nauseated my first night after several hours of dyeing and I think it must be coming from the fumes. I did it in our kitchen with the doors and windows closed because there’s snow outside and (I thought) a girl has to stay warm.

But I was determined to press on, so for the last two days I’ve turned the heat off in the house completely and had the windows wide open. I think I’m getting the hang of this no central heating thing. Copious cups of hot tea, two hot water bottles, and staying as active as possible seems to do the trick.

Coincidentally, I heard from Malcolm this morning as he’s down in Aviemore teaching firemaking, and he spent last night sleeping out in the snow. So we both get to feel we’ve had a memorable experience with managing the cold these past few days.

Chemical vs natural dyes

It makes me worry to use anything that might be making me feel ill. I’d already researched long and hard about the pros and cons of different dyes, natural vs synthetic, and had concluded that it wasn’t necessarily far more eco-friendly to use natural dyes because you have to use such vast quantities for one, you can need chemical mordants (chemicals that fix the colour to the wool and doesn’t let it bleed out) and some dyes (like that which produces red) come from South America and so you’ve got a big carbon footprint.

Of course, my dyes come from Australia, so who am I kidding? At the end of the day, chemical dyes were easier and I could create far more shades more quickly. But now I’m thinking it’s not worth saving some effort at the expense of health, so I think I’ll try natural dyes next.

Going local with Shetland wool

Some friends of ours, Chris and Howie, have a farm and even produce their own yarn. When we were doing the Power Off Weekend in December, they kindly brought over a whole bag of Shetland fleece for me to play with. Isn’t that great?

Since Shetland is just the next island up from us, it’s a pretty authentically local kind of wool to be using. I washed that (which took ages), then carded it, and then put it in the dye pot.

More yarns to come

I already have two other yarns I want to do: “Midwinter’s Tale”, which is based on Malcolm’s photo of the Ring of Brodgar in the snow and the story of the Dancing Giants of Brodgar, and “The Seafarers”, which is based on his photo of the brightly coloured fishing/diving boats in Stromness Harbour.

Since I’m using so many colours, and also still learning how to spin, it might take me a bit longer to get the finished version done, but I’ll get there.

Knitters and spinners, your thoughts please

I’m thinking of doing a super bulky, thick thin yarn because I had in my mind to do scarf kits, and I certainly found that learning on Colinette’s Point 5 yarn was a delightful and easy way to learn how to knit.

If I did ever decide to do more of these yarns, for sale or gifts, what weight would you think would work best? My concern with doing lighter weights like aran or DK — say, 4mm to 6mm needles — is that you won’t see the colours as much.

Perhaps it’d be better just to do the batts/roving?

Any advice and thoughts most welcome.

I’ll post again as soon as I have a more finished product…

“Up from the ashes of disaster grow the roses of success,” says the fount of wisdom that is Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. I had cause to remember this as I made a complete mess of things initially with my first project, Wellie Boot Liners. I mentioned yesterday I was working on these and this morning I was determined to finish them, but I ran into problem after problem and finally had to admit defeat.

However, where my the boot liners failed, my alternative solution came up blooming because its far, far easier and quicker: Felted Shoe Insoles.

Cosy insoles for wellies made out of an old felted sweater

These handy little babies are what’s going to let me wear my utterly charming but poorly insulated new Wellington boots instead of having to stump for the practical but boring option.

What you need to make Felted Shoe Insoles at home

All you need is (yet again) an old wool sweater. That’s it.

If I haven’t persuaded you to start trawling the charity shops and your friends closets for old sweaters — especially ones with moth holes or stains — then hopefully I will now.

As I explained in the Felted Sweater Bag tutorial (for pictures and more detailed instructions), you simply add a few good squeezes of dishwashing liquid onto your sweater and throw it into the wash on the hottest cycle you have.

How to make the insole

Once you have your felt, simply remove the sole from your shoe and place it on top of the fabric.

Use your shoe insert and just cut around it

Then cut around it — I didn’t bother to trace it or anything, just cut away — with a little extra room just in case.

Place it in your shoe or boot and trim if necessary. That’s it!

The felted soles inside the boots

Making a Wellie Boot warmer

Now here’s how I came to be doing this. These are the boots that are my super deluxe purchase of the year: the Hunter Festival 2009 wellington boot.

Ready to walk in my new boots

I’m afraid they’re pretty much all style over substance, meant for traipsing about rock concerts in the mud. I tried, I really did, to find boots that had a rugged sole and warm interior to suit our daily treks over the rocks and the beach, but they were all just so borrrring.

I like my jaunts outside to have the spice of adventure, and that means a pair of boots I can’t wait to put on.

Wellie boot liners

When I found out there is such a thing as wellie boot liners, I thought I’d go one better and make them out of felted sweaters I’ve already got. Here’s the original design I was attempting to copy:

Here's the original Dubarry design

My niece Sameena was visiting from New Zealand and she came up with the design. She thought very cleverly of using plastic bags to wrap around our feet to get an idea of the shape of the pattern and we even sewed a mockup that looked like it would work.

Mockup in muslin to test the design out

So I made it up this morning using two different sweaters because I didn’t have enough fabric left over in either. But when I tried to put it in the boot, no luck.

Cosy but very bulky liner

Wayyyy to much fabric meant it was never going to get in there. It was a bit depressing really, but then sometimes it’s good to realise just how hard things are to make, that there’s a reason cobblers are master craftsmen, for example.

As I was thinking what to do with all these scraps of felt, I figured I could at least line the bottom of my boots and so I pulled out my shoe sole, cut around it, and popped the fleece into the boot. Ah, luxury.

I’m wearing the boots today to see how they do. So far, the soles feels fantastic.

So my other lesson for today is to Keep It Simple. And just for fun…

Your suggestions?

I haven’t given up completely on the boot liners, so if you have any suggestions, please chime in.

Welly warmer in fleece

So far, this is the best Welly Warmer tutorial I’ve found and I’ll probably give it a go at some point (though I couldn’t find any pattern to download, which means I’ll need to come up with it myself).

I’ve already ordered the faux fur to make the Dubarry knock-off boot liners, but now I’m thinking I might just use my over-the-knee socks and add a strip of fur to the edge.

If you try the insoles, let me know how you like them.

Greetings!

I figure, since this is my second guest post, I should probably introduce myself a bit.

My name is Kerrilee, and I met Malcolm & Rachel on my six-week travels this past summer. They were awesome, and let me stay longer than I had originally asked to stay.

So, now that I’ve been back home in New York, teaching preschool and hanging with my girlfriend (Melissa) and cat (Pan), I’m happy to say that they’re still awesome and inviting me into their lives and this project.

Here’s a play-by-play of what Power-Off Weekend looked like from this side of the Atlantic.

Setting the scene

Where we live: a 900 square foot, 4th-floor apartment, 15 miles north of Manhattan, with a view of the Empire State Building from the bedroom window in the winter when there’s no leaves on the trees.

We have a fireplace, steam radiators that sound like angry birds, and oddly placed electrical outlets (the building was constructed in the 1920′s… the original brochure advertised the “amazing cross-breezes” for those renting apartments before air conditioning. As someone too lazy and uninterested to walk an air-conditioner up four flights of stairs twice a year, I can confirm it’s a valid selling point. But I digress.)

The great Cooky Party

On Friday night, one of our best friends came in from Philadelphia for the Cooky Party Melissa and I were hosting on Saturday. It’s a non-holiday specific party where our friends get together, bake cookies, and then gorge ourselves on the sweet treats, alternated with something salty, like Mexican food. A day of friends and food… couldn’t be better.

a preview of the Mexican feast.

Everyone knew that there would be no lights and no KitchenAid mixer at this year’s party (but we would leave the fridge on). Upon arrival on Friday night, our friend reassured her husband over the phone that she had indeed charged it before she left, and it would not die before she returned on Sunday.

Turning off the electricity

At 10:30 Friday night, I started playing with circuits while Melissa and our friend called out what turned off.

Until that day, it had never even occurred to us that we had a big ‘ole circuit breaker thing and that we could use it to turn stuff off without unplugging it. The process went something like,

me, standing on chair to reach circuits: ok, what now?

Melissa and friend: Ummm, the light’s out on the stereo.

me: got it. [label circuit, flick next circuit.] ok, what now?

Melissa and friend: Nothing?

me: [flick next circuit] and now?

Melissa and friend: … still nothing.

Turns out, we have a lot of useless circuits. Half of them, actually. Also, three out of our six rooms are on the same circuit, and the bathroom isn’t on any circuit. Good to know. Lights out.

Waking up Saturday morning

So, now we’re at Saturday morning. I get woken up by a bag of coffee beans in my face. Melissa wants to make coffee, and the coffee grinder has one of those pesky plugs.

I suggest the mortar and pestle… but Melissa and our friend decide to hit Starbucks on their way to pick up a few last minute items for the day.

While they were out, Melissa calls me to ask for a store’s phone number (she was getting her new iPhone that day). Nope, can’t use the Internet to look it up – call 411! [the information equivalent of the emergency 911 number here in the States.]

At 11 am, friends arrive for the all-day baking fest. Our oven is gas, so we’re not technically cheating (yay!).

Showing off those icing skills.

Hard at work on gingerbread.

Everyone had a gingerbread initial... we couldn't help but spell with them.

However, disaster strikes: Melissa goes to take out the flour, and the lid slips off the container, spilling flour all over the carpet and one of our guests. Oh no!

Breaking the rules

We’re faced with a choice: get the Dustbuster, or have flour ground
into the carpet and spread all over the place during the course of the day. So, the Dustbuster became our one moment of breaking our own rules over the weekend.

Later, a guest who has been at previous Cooky Parties commented, “You know, it’s nice – without the KitchenAid, we can hear each other better.” And that was even with the holiday music, provided by a battery-operated iHome!

Evening sets in

As the sun went down, the last cookies were rolled out by “flashlight” (aka torch-light).

Rolling out the last of 'em.

After everything was baked, we lit the candles for the 2nd night of Hannukah, some other candles for extra light, and a fire in the fireplace, and read aloud from a book parodying Twilight while we feasted on tea & cookies.

My own moment of forgetfulness about the lack of electricity came when we were setting up for the two friends who were sleeping over.

One friend called the couch, and for the other, I said, “Oh, we’ll blow up the air mattress…” and got as far as having the plug in my hand before I realized that we could not, in fact, blow up the air mattress. Instead, we stripped all the cushions off the back of the couch and the one cushy chair, and made a makeshift mattress to put underneath the air mattress. It ended up being quite comfortable after all!

Sunday morning

The next morning, our French press, mortar and pestle, and I worked together to provide three cups of coffee.

Then our friends departed, and Melissa and I spent the rest of our day in a very relaxed state of electricity-lessness.

While Melissa watched “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” on the battery power of her laptop, I half-watched while I rearranged the two power strips in the living room into “always” and “sometimes” stuff, so that when the power returned, we could leave the power off to the things we used less often (like the Wii), and only turn that strip on when needed.

When the movie and rearranging were finished, we both read for the rest of the day.

As it got dusky, I used a flashlight/torch jammed into the hood of my sweatshirt as a reading lamp, and then we used our most reflective candleholders to read in bed (sorry Malcolm, there isn’t really an abundance of shells and reeds in Westchester! if only). We, too, went to bed without flipping the circuits back on, and only did so Monday morning.

A bit of reflection

As the end of the Weekend drew near, Melissa commented, “Awesome! Now I can stop automatically reaching for the lightswitch and have nothing happen.”
Meanwhile, I found myself thinking about how nice it was not to know exactly what time it was. The time was divided into “day, dusk, night,” and there was no pressure to know the hour. I also thought, when a lull came over the Cooky Party, how easy it must have been to be on a ‘farmer’s schedule’ before electricity; we all seemed to get tired around 8 PM, and only pushed to stay awake because our group of friends does not get many opportunities to spend time together and it would be silly to squander it. Between the ease of going to bed when it’s dark, and the expense of using candles for a lengthy period in the evening, it makes sense to rise early and retire to bed early.

Alas, nothing to do but eat cookies.

Coda

A few days after the Weekend, Melissa and I we were talking in the bedroom – but not going to bed yet – and since we weren’t reading or doing something that required light, I turned off the bedside lamp. As the light from outside filtered in, Melissa noticed the pattern of the planes taking off from LaGuardia. It was “rush hour” for transatlantic flights, so we spent the next 10 minutes peacefully watching the different flight patterns created as many planes flew over our area. We have lived in this apartment for three years, knowing we had a view of New York City, and never noticed this before, simply because we were never looking at the right angle and with the right light (in this case, none of our own).

It’s little things, small baby steps, that make all the difference in how we experience our lives.

Esther Pawley sent us her almost haiku-like notes that we just had to share…

Official candle lighting time – 5.23pm

Feel like Wee Willie Winky carrying my candle about. Such a beautiful warm glow – should use candles more often.

Frustrating – need internet connection – but can cycle to work to use their connection – when they’re there (long story don’t ask)!!

Thank goodness for gas and the fact I’m not too fussy about warmth – long history of freezing houses and wearing lots of clothes inside the house. Don’t be fooled by location – no central heating and plenty of healthy drafts.

Enjoying the warmth from my laptop, acting like a reptile..

Discovered my torch gives off heat – great. Mustn’t over use, can’t recharge….

Should have lit fire while it was light. Haven’t done it before.

Hot food never tasted so good. Sleep – highly underrated.

Bloody freezing – psychological? Think not, the air temperature must have dropped. I don’t have any less heating than usual. (It was true when I checked the internet on Monday).

Overfilled teapot in semi-darkness. Balls. Drinking water a scarcity.

I love electricity, it’s so useful…. promise not to use it excessively again…

Decided to go out and hold a dinner party elsewhere, with lighting.

While cycling back watched shooting stars with a friend and shared the lane with a barn owl flying alongside me. Amazing!! Nearly fell off my bike when it veered off.

See, I wouldn’t have had that amazing experience if I hadn’t have been forced to go and share food elsewhere due to lack of power at my house.

The weather helped, with sunshine and no wind. At night, stars mesmerised me as the scent of wood smoke drifted down to my eager nostrils. Joy! The time has just flown by, and to be honest life was so enjoyable without the electricity that we are only re-introducing it selectively – I call that a success!

First day of the Power Off weekend, embracing light and the simple pleasures

We rode our bikes to the local Stenness store, only a 5 mile round trip but something was special, we were really enjoying the day, soaking everything up, like we were on holiday. We kept the open fire lit with driftwood, boiled water using an old coffee jug and embraced the smoky flavours! People called by every day, bringing gifts of food, warmth and friendship. We feasted on plentiful supplies of food, cooked over the fire, we read stories out loud and relaxed.

Oh dear, the freezer has defrosted, I'll have to cook all these sausages!

I’d say we gained more than we gave up. As the last evening drew to an end, we wondered what the time was? It was past 11pm, so we could have turned the power back on! Instead, we took the lamp to bed, luxuriating in the warmth of the flickering flame. I began a new book to read and we decided, next weekend, we’ll do it again.

This is not for everyone. However, for those who have missed out, I can now reveal, this was just the preliminary event. The next one is in January – but it will be slightly different. Watch this space!

For now, let us replenish the stores of vegetable oil, candles, gas, wood, and tea, and reconnect with friends and family. Life without electricity has a magic and ‘energy’ all of its own. Try it! It is such fun coming up with alternatives, and to be honest, we spend too much time on our backsides (looking at TV and computer). Real life has something special to offer, something we have lost sight of perhaps, blinded by the bright lights of modernity. After this weekend we can see a way to have the best of both.

Reading by the flickering flame of lamp and candle light

It has become so easy to work and shop on Sundays, with no rest. The churches have lost their hold on many of us, replaced by supermarkets, television and the internet. Weekends have become time to ‘catch up’ and get jobs done. Too busy. Maybe a little self-imposed simplicity would not be such a bad idea? A day or two without electric lights, the computer, the TV? Maybe a day leaving the car (if you have one) in the garage and dusting off the bicycles? The freezer could stay on. A few rhythms and variety seem like a good idea. It just seems we need a helping hand, a little bit of encouragement, to stop ourselves from slipping into more consuming and mindlessness. Some sort of mindfulness is one gift that comes from choosing a weekend different from the norm. Special moments and a sense of magic, of life, of who we are.

The act of turning off the electricity switched something in our heads too. We relaxed and embraced the time, behaved differently and so didn’t miss what we gave up. You know that holiday feeling? So, we consumed less energy, we spent far less, we found more time because we imposed limits on our own use of the internet. We lived in the moment, we smiled a lot, we rediscovered something precious. I’ll try in later posts to put my finger on just what this weekend has done but it is somewhat intangible – a feeling, a sense of life. Whatever, it is good!

We are asking participants to take a survey before and after the event so that we would like to understand a bit more about:

• why people are participating
• what they’re worried about and
• what they hope to get from the weekend

If you’ve signed up to turn off the electricity this weekend but haven’t yet taken it, please take the survey now (it’s quick) here:

http://www.surveymonkey.com/s/XJP2H5B

We’ve gotten some great replies already, and I’d like to share what people are writing.

Why are you doing it?

We asked people to choose the single biggest reason they’re doing this. 62% chose “for the environment”, 25% “for fun” and 12.5% as a “personal challenge”.

What are you worried about?

The funny thing is, people don’t seem to be worried.

We asked people to rate on a scale of “Not at all” to “Extremely” in terms of how they feel about the upcoming weekend, and 62.5% said “Not at all” for “Anxious”, with 25% “A little” and 12.5% “Somewhat”. No one put down either “A lot” or “Extremely” for anxious.

In fact, people felt “Extremely” “Free” (37.5%), “Excited” (62.5%), and “Proud” (50%).

To be honest, I expected a little more anxiety and a little less enthusiasm, but I’m so glad that there’s such a feeling of optimism and excitement.

It’s like we’re planning a big slumber party and can’t wait for the weekend.

What do you hope to get from the experience?

Here’s two of my favourite quotes so far:

An understanding of how we use electricity in this house and where we can easily cut our usage to offer economies both financially and ecologically. I hope that it will be an exciting adventure and may bring back some fond childhood memories. I am sure it will be a fun experience for all the family.

It will be a challenge to do without the convenience that electricity provides and the entertainment and means of communication that it powers. Living on my own this is pretty important to me, but I hope to be inspired to reduce energy usage from now on and to be more sociable.

What are you doing to prepare?

I’ve just gotten back from party at the grocery store, having seized the opportunity of a lift offered by my friend Victoria. I’ve got butteries (a Scottish pastry kind of like flat croissants), bread and cheddar for making toasted cheese sandwiches, and more chocolate and peanut butter to make a new batch of Chocolate Peanut Butter Balls for all the guests we’re having stop by this weekend.

We’ve got at least 3 different families coming by to check out life without electricity, and from what I’m hearing from other participants, it’s become quite a social hub for many.

Here’s what some others are doing:

Made sure the alladin lamps have kerosene, brought up plenty of firewood, gased up the generator and launched a Power Off campaign at Frankston isd…Looking forward to painting, reading & snuggling by lamplight- it’s been awhile.

Running down on frozen food.
Getting candles in.
Dusting off some old board games.

I have been busy preparing meals from the stuff in our freezer that will be easy to reheat on our camping gas stove. Organising candles and oil lamps. Chatting to people about the challenge to get their ideas and thoughts. Planning games and activities to keep us amused.

We’re really pleased, proud and excited to have so many people doing this with such imagination and flair. Thank you to all of you for making this event a success before we’ve even done it!

December 11 - 13, 2009

Please will you all follow this link and complete the quick 10 question survey:

http://www.surveymonkey.com/s/XJP2H5B

Thank you.

Please, will you also make notes of your experiences during the weekend, keep a diary, take photos and complete a final questionnaire afterwards?

Best wishes!

Malcolm