Its 7:42 am, I have been awake for two hours and my fingers are cold because our furnace broke last night. Every space heater in this old house is cranked and we are trying not to to blow a breaker or shut down power in McHenry Country for that matter. Big Daddy is on his way to Target to the 75% of aisle – we are gonna buy a few more heaters and hold out on calling the HVAC guy until Monday. There is no way I am paying twice as much for a weekend repair. Don’t worry, P.R. has extra layers on.
Joel said he was sorry about the cold and I reminded him of my Enigma, Supper Momma status, things like this don’t bother me – I told him the pile of receipts and papers that have been on the dining room table for the last four days piss me off way more than a pilot light that won’t do what it is designed to do, dot, dot, dot- light. (Nic Quote, “Humor is in the details.” and if you are one of my 6 or 7 loyal readers that still does not read the comments then consider yourself left out of the best part dot, dot, dot, again.)
The cold weather however is not Joel’s fault or of a faulty pilot light and it IS bugging me more than the pile of reciepts. My eyes scoure the map for a vacation destination for 2006 and they land on the tri-city area of Savannah, Hilton Head and Charleston.
More low rollers than high we are grateful to have joined one of those time share thingies when we were first married. A horrible decision then that taxed us of every extra penny now pays off. I will put in my request with them this afternoon. Anytime in August or September excluding the week of the fairy-tale nuptuals of course.
I dream of Southern air thick with heat and heavy on charm. Trees burdend with moss, magnolia scented mornings and hospitality and kindness that is only found south of the Mason-Dixon line.
Its Saturday, my furnace is broke (by the way the hot water heater is leaking, the downstairs toilet is leaking and my stove is a piece of crap) and I still need a tan.