Lawd ya'll, I didn't think I would survive the weekend.
Last weekend was spent with Ma at Shady Pines, the ER and a second hospital (she's fine, no worries, we'll save the details for another post,) so by this Friday, my little trailer was lookin' like a frat house. Long story short, I sprained my thighs squatting in front of the fireplace, trying unsuccessfully to start a fire, then had a mini anxiety attack when the light bulb blew in the fridge. I thought the whole dang thing had died. I was flippin' breakers and wiggling plugs.
I nearly Snoopy danced in the kitchen when it finally kicked on.
The other day I received a letter from the power company with a cute little graphic showing how I was using like.. a shit ton of electricity. I'm pretty sure the po-po are going to show up any day to raid my grow-op. They will be greatly disapointed.
I know it's from using the space heaters, but dang.. a letter.. really?
Now that Spring is on it's way, I've decided we can get by with just the fireplace to take the chill off at night, which would work great if I could start a feckin' fire. I spent hours trying to get one cranked up yesterday so I could dry some clothes for work today. I did manage to work up a sweat, what with the poking, flipping wiggling and shifting logs.
Fireplaces shouldn't be on the floor. This crawling around on my hands and knees with a flashlight to find the stupid damper lever thingie is hard on a old woman. I never did figure out which way to push it to open the damper. When I went home at lunch today, The Amazon was down there doing the same thing.
Ya'll have a great Monday. It's almost over.