Thought I should make an appearance, just to prove that I’m still breathing over here. More like panting in the past few days, I suppose, as I’ve felt like the white rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, scurrying around frantically, all in a dither. Or, one of those cartoon characters whose feet are a blur, but they don’t really go anywhere.
I don’t usually get into a dither. Being a true Capricorn I generally just take a deep breath and plough through whatever needs to be done, one step at a time, regardless of how many side steps are involved. So methinks that the current dithery feeling is down to a sudden return of genuine energy and enthusiasm after a noticeable absence since that miserable virus struck last end of November. I had truly forgotten how it felt to bounce out of bed in the morning, feeling like I’ve actually had a night’s sleep. Even stranger is getting on with things for a whole day without collapsing. Nice! Let’s hope it lasts this time and it’s not just a teaser. The not so nice bit is that there are so many things to get on with that I don’t really know where to start. You can’t let things go for that many months and not end up here, I suppose. I kept up with what really needed doing on a day to day basis, more or less, but just the very basics aren’t enough eventually. Hence the dithering. Which room needs the top to bottom clean first … or should I be starting the garden cleanup … or should I be catching up with people who have been totally neglected on a personal basis over the months … or should I be updating my blog for the benefit of those people and others … or should I be staining the deck … or should I be tackling the windows … or should I be making salsa and spaghetti sauce from the tomatoes today … or should I be painting the bathroom … or should I be …?
But for today, the blog has won out for the moment, followed by a bit of catching up with people as I can’t really get on with anything in the way of a major job. Well, I could, but it’s better not to today as I don’t know when I’ll be interrupted and for how long. I’m awaiting the delivery of a major appliance … again! I knew that this would happen, and have been holding my breath, waiting for it, ever since we replaced the washer and dryer earlier in the summer. The stove was bought at around the same time as the old washer and dryer, so it would be just sort of the natural thing for it to give up the ghost, too, right? And so it did last Friday … in a very dramatic way, apparently … with a nasty glow, a bang, and a burst of flames. That will teach Stephanie to be on the prowl at 4:00 a.m., heating up left-over pizza! I missed the major drama myself as I was dead to the world, but the “Mom, you have to wake up, there’s a fire in the kitchen” probably still qualifies as some kind of drama. Remember what I said in the “Sevens” post a little while ago about not expecting me to be coherent and alert until I’ve had an hour or two to wake up properly? Sometimes there are exceptions to any rule. The fireworks display was all over before I got to the kitchen and had been confined to the oven, fortunately. But evidence of what Stephanie had witnessed was there for me to see, in the form of a nice ash “blast” mark and scorch marks along the bottom and up the sides of the oven.
The burners on top still worked, kind of, but not much else. So that was sort of that. Off Richard and I went for some appliance shopping on Friday morning. I was perfectly capable of doing it myself, but he came along to make sure that I didn’t settle for a plain jane model, as is my usual habit. He appreciates my willingness to “make do” but figures that I’ve done more than enough of that for one lifetime. Lovely man, really! 🙂 So, in the end, this is what we ended up buying. Not the poshest in the shop, but definitely not plain jane, and something that I’m really going to enjoy having … as much as one can enjoy a stove. The larger oven size and various other daily use features will be a treat, but mainly I’m clicking my heels at the thought of how easy the darling will be to clean. Cleaning the stove is absolutely the worst job on my list of general duties. I’d rather scrub toilets all day, or clean the floor of a dance hall on my hands and knees with a toothbrush. Seriously. But now something else can take over that spot on the list. No more mucky burners to deal with and the hidden oven element is going to make oven cleaning a breeze. Trying to protect the element from the cleaner is always a major pain, and slows the cleaning process down considerably. Actually, I didn’t even know that you could get a stove with a hidden element – someone has been doing some constructive thinking in the 12 or so years since I last went stove shopping. I did have the option of a self-cleaning oven, but no thanks. They kind of freak me out in principle and I’m sure that the stench of burning off the yuck at sustained high temperatures is probably worse than that of oven cleaner. Less messy, but no, I’m not really interested, thanks.
But of course one major expenditure leads to another, and it was the car’s turn to bleed the bank account on Tuesday. A dead as dead can be car was the last thing that Richard needed Monday morning. Bad enough on any working day, but that was the day of his nephew’s funeral in England and any extra fuss and bother was definitely not needed. A similar thing had happened a few weeks ago, but a boost got it up and running and everything seemed fine. But obviously that was a warning, which should have been heeded. The friendly neighbourhood car doctor came over to give it another boost Tuesday morning, so that it could get to his car hospital for a battery transplant. Nuh uh. Rather than charging once the car was running, it spluttered and died again. So, back Dr. B came and left the power pack on while he drove the car to the hospital himself. Verdict? The obvious. New battery, of course, but also new alternator. Ouch enough for just the part, but mega ouch when the alternator on our car is nicely hidden away and lots of bits and pieces have to be taken out in order to get at it. Hence a major bill for labour, too. Our car doctor is such a sweetheart and was falling all over himself, apologizing for the bill. He is very good to long-standing customers and had given us as many breaks as he could, so really, no hard feelings, just a sharp intake of breath. She’s a peppy little beast now and this is the first time that she has cost us any real money. Lousy timing, but isn’t that always the way with such things?
Anyway, this was just meant to be a flying visit to announce my still being in the land of the living. I really should shut up now and throw together a salad for lunch before I keel over from starvation, having forgotten to throw something down my gullet for breakfast. Or toss together a salad, rather. Boom boom. Yeah, I know, what a wit, eh? The delivery is to happen at some point in the next five hours, so the contant checking of front window and listening for sound of big truck before dashing up to bathroom or wherever begins. Don’t you love it when you pay a bomb for delivery and get such a precise delivery time? Puh.