Thursday, May 2, 2013

Wait Wait . . . Don't Tell Me!

Husband, kids, and I just saw a live simulcast of this show at the Fenway theater in downtown Boston, which was total fun but my legs are very crampy from sitting in movie theater seats . . .

. . . because I took a long walk earlier today; I realized last night (as I minced down my hill — I am still ridiculous going down hills) that I have hardly been walking at all and vowed to do more of it starting today, BUT . . .

. . . I wasn't able to take a long hot bath afterward, which my arthritic knees truly long for after a bout of the exercise; instead I took a shower that was extremely unsatisfying because . . .

. . . apparently the pilot light on our water heater is not so much . . . lit.

At least, I'm hoping that's all it is, since relighting the pilot light is relatively easy. Well, for me, it's extremely easy, it involves saying, "Honey, I think the pilot light's out." Poor Husband is down there now (literally, as he's both down in the basment and down on his tummy under the water heater). He tried to light it before we left for the movie, but, he said, he reached forward with the match and ran into a small glass door, which our old water heater didn't have, so he came upstairs to dig out the water heater manual, which says, helpfully, "Open small glass door."

Anyway. He says that if I hear an explosion to call 911 and tell the kids he loves them.

In other news, Mimosa's throat feels better but she's got a scratchy voice, and she has to sing in two concerts this weekend. (They're doing a medley of songs from Hair and another from Les Miserables and she will die, die! if she has to miss it!) I'm plying her with hot tea liberally doused with blue agave syrup (we don't have honey, but they seem similar, right?) and prayer. We shall see.

Husband just yelled, "What??" Um, good sign?

I think I'm going to bed.


—Lady C, optimist


  1. I have assembled every single piece of furniture in our apartment, I am the only one in our marriage who knows how to paint a room from start to finish, and I'm a total slut for DIY home blogs. But whenever we do have a pilot light to worry about, it will be all Carter. It can be his penance for not being quick enough to hand me the allen wrench.

  2. Perfect division of labor! This will save your marriage forever.

    (Husband and I are both pretty handy, but he knows way more than I do. I could paint a room and build a bookcase, but I don't know what an allen wrench is. My respect for your butchness just grew by bounds!!)

  3. hello sweet girl, i have missed reading your lovely voice. the calving is nearly over. spring is starting to arrive - no snow for the last 4 days. i am still swimming but only twice a week. i am so old and tired and lazy. i have to go back now and read your posts. i hope you soon find yourself in hot water. :)

  4. I miss you too, angel, and am dying to hear all about your visit with your mom. Bevy, I think of you all the time and "our" project, and am despairing that I have no time for it at present. Please don't lose faith - I would adore to do this with you!!!

    After a week without, I finally have hot water and can no longer write "Wash me, Slattern" in the dirt on my knee. It was bad.