’Twas the night before Christmas, and how cheerful the sight,
As the grid fed the glow of each home’s twinkling lights.
The meters spun softly, their telemetry flowed,
In hopes of no surge in the holiday load.
But the planners lay restless, awake in their beds,
While visions of queue requests danced in their heads.
And I cautiously turned, trying not to despair,
To the PJM forecast, for the solace found there.
Tag: Poem
On the Grid We Depend: From Sparks to Substance
Right after Thanksgiving, I published a super fun electric-utility themed version of a classic 19th century holiday poem. Creating it was so energizing! Pun intended. I’m no poet, so you may be wondering how I brought it to life – so here’s the backstory:
It all started in November, sometime before Thanksgiving. My wife came home from work with news that she and her colleagues needed to record a holiday message for their entire business unit—which just so happens to be my entire business unit as well. Naturally, I encouraged her to “have fun with it!” But as I encouraged her, I couldn’t shake the feeling of missing out. Why should she have all the fun? I, too, wanted to create a holiday message to my team and to “have fun with it”!
Continue reading “On the Grid We Depend: From Sparks to Substance”On the Grid We Depend
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the grid,
Not a relay was tripping, not even a bit.
The transformers hummed in steady refrain,
In hopes that no storm would disrupt the domain.
The linemen were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of conductors danced in their heads.
And dispatch at their consoles, and I at my screen,
Kept watch on the system — steadfast and keen.
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