Little m Long a

There are times that life seems to fly past and I am helpless to do anything but watch.  And then there are days like today.  Days that I am stuck in reverse, repeating tasks that I had thought complete.  It’s an unsettling trend.

Speaking of Unsettling

I started laundry this morning which is nothing truly out of the ordinary.  I’ve got 5 kids — they generate filth.  Problem is, I took a load directly from the dryer and put it into the washer.

Unfortunately, this can not be immediately attributed to the fact that I am losing my mind.  Well, not entirely.

Seems I had made the transfer from washer to dryer some time ago (read at least two days) and forgot to start it.  There are times when the inability to smell comes in very handy for I am quite certain that the pile of wet clothes festering in the dryer for two days was ripening up quite nicely.

I’ve got a “List of Things That Need Being Done” next to the calendar in the kitchen and dutifully, I’ve been erasing items from it for the past week.  This morning I added two items that I had previously marked as having been completed.

They WERE completed and justifiably erased.  It’s just that they have since become undone and their inclusion on the list is again necessary.  I’m going backwards.

Stuck in Reverse

I complained the other day about having to turn on the boiler in September.  Well, the temperatures rose to the mid eighties this past weekend and the weather outside was fantastic.  I turned it back off.  Actually, I had turned it off much earlier in the week, when the nighttime temperatures were in the forties and daytime highs were around 60.

Yes it was a bit chilly.  And as much as I’d like to tell you that the boiler was turned off  as a way of taking a stand against the depressing onslaught of impending winter and higher gas bills, that is not the case.  It quit working!

Seems the heat was not being transferred from the boiler to the pipes that feed the radiators.  The valves simply locked up.  Who knew these things required maintenance?  I grew up in Louisiana, I’ve never really had need of a boiler.  Or a heater for that matter.

Praying for a simple repair, I called the service technician who took one look at my 75 year old heating system (Yes 75 years.  It was put in in the late 1930′s or very early 40′s)  and flatly stated, “Man, that’s a bomb.”

I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a compliment.

The Bomb in My Basement

I am told that a new system will have paid for itself in gas savings in about 4 years.  I think they are trying to comfort me.  It hasn’t worked.  I have very large numbers rolling around in my head, anticipating the worst that they might offer regarding replacement costs.

It may be cheaper to move south.

(The title of this post has absolutely nothing to do with the content — but then, I’m sure you’ve already figured that one out.  I suppose the relationship is a bit more telling of where my head is right now.  Disjointed and a tad bit confused.  Random ambling all the while struggling to maintain focus. Balance. Purpose. Oh, and I’m almost out of coffee.  And duct tape.)

Time away does not necessarily equate to time productively expended.  Words have been tacked up less than frequently of late leading one to believe that I may have used that energy in a more useful manner.

This is not the case.

The allure of winter wonder has all but faded.  The varying degrees of contrasting shades of white and gray have grown monotonous.  Sky gives way to barren landscapes.  The lines are blurred.   They are all vying for the same colors and the palate is as monochrome as it is cold.

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It’s Wednesday.

This is wordless.

Mostly.

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What Time Is It?

There’s no prize.  Just that warm toasty feeling that fills you from the core when you know you were correct.

Since compiling a list of reasons that I do not particularly care for winters in Ohio would actually read more like a Tolstoy novel, I have chosen a more random, disjointed approach for my little diatribes.  I’ll share them as they make their way to the forefront of my mind that way you can feel the angst while it’s fresh.

I suppose the most compelling reason for me to hate Ohio winters is that they are not Louisiana winters.  Though I’m not really sure that you can call a winter in Louisiana winter.  It’s more like a harsh autumn with a smattering of “it’s almost cold enough for a jacket today”.

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