I got listed...

...on Desipundit! *grin*

The Power of the Sun

I attended a seminar at work today. My company is subsidizing solar panels for homeowners. And no, I don't own a home, but I went because I was curious.

I learnt about the interesting concept of Net Metering or how to make your meter run backwards. The solar panels generate DC power, which is converted to AC (which is what the grid supplies) using an inverter. This AC power is fed back into the grid, when it is not being consumed (e.g., when you are away at work), which CREDITS your meter! How cool is that? Read more here.

There was an interesting question about what would happen in a power outage. Contrary to what you might think, a solar powered home would be blacked out in an outage. Obviously, there is power to be had from the panels, but the feeding back of the power into the grid would endanger PG&E's lines and workers (who are expecting no power on the lines due to the blackout). This is PG&E way of dealing with renewable energy (in the short term, at least).

The cost for solar-enabling your home is offset in part by a rebate from the state of California (currently $2.6 off from $9 per watt), plus you can get a long-term financing with tax-deductible interests. The government subsidies are predicted to go down as time goes by (as solar power gains acceptance, and the incentive is no longer necessary. Plus, the cost of the panels will go down roughly proportionally as well).

The panels come with a 10-year equipment warranty and an average 20-year power output warranty. So look at this as a long term investment. But who stays in a house for over 5 years anyway?

Ache

When I was a child, I usually fell sick around exam time. My grandmother would coax me to go to sleep around 3am, saying "What you've learnt so far is good enough". When I came back from school, my grandfather would sit by the bed and apply cold compress on my forehead. There was so much affection, can anyone love me more? As time went by, I grew out of my exam blues and they grew older. I would apply medicine on my grandfather's back because he had allergies that would itch. It became hard for him to eat, and the last thing he would do every day was to drink a glass of Complan that my mother made and that I took to him. If one day, I was away and not there to give him the milk, he would ask my mother "Meera enga?". Why is it that we remember the little, almost inconsequential details? My grandfather is no more, and these memories break my heart. But they are also my treasure and secret joy, that no one can take away. The lump in my throat won't go away.