So, after my last post, I was able to climb off my ledge (after some serious self-guided therapy, an apology, and some other stuff involving chocolate and a quiet evening alone with my sweetie), I got back on the NaNoWriMo bicycle and picked up the story. It’s too late for me to finish, as I have no desire to write over 10,000 words a day for the last few days of the month.
However (and this is huge, folks, HUGE) I am ok with that.
No, seriously, I really am. This will be the first year I’ve not made it to the finish line with a full contingent of words, but considering I’ve managed to do it for the past six years (or more, I don’t remember), having a low year is fine. There were other things happening that needed that creative energy, so I let it go.
Damn, I can be such a grown up at times.
Tam and I bit the bullet and bought a fireplace insert (although “insert” is used rather loosely here). When we were looking around, I said it was imperative that we find one that we can cook on when the power goes out. The last big storm we had where we lost power for five days was interesting. We have a fireplace, but it is one of those old ones where most of the heat goes up the chimney and keeping the damn thing going is a challenge. Especially when all the wood is soaking wet or frozen solid. Or both. We didn’t dare leave the house to seek warmth, coffee, food, or recharging of electronic equipment, as we’d have to attempt to start the fire all over again upon our return.
I think that contributed a lot to the emotional meltdown that occurred during the ordeal. Granted, it was only five days, but five days of hotdog flambé, bacon flambé, toast flambé, coffee flambé (yes, I caught the damn coffee pot on fire. There was bacon grease involved. It was awesome), and beans flambé, it was decided that a fireplace insert was necessary, and it had to have a cooktop. Being able to leave the house, even for a little while just to get outside for something other than another armload of wood, probably would have helped raise our moral.
So would hot water for cleaning up, coffee without ashes, and food that you didn’t have to snuff out before eating. We chose a unit that sits in front of the fireplace, so it has a rather substantial cooking surface. The firebox isn’t huge, but it burns so well that it doesn’t need to be the size of a Buick LaSalle. Plus it has a blower (and there’s a spectacular joke surrounding that… I’ll you in a minute), and the blower has an automatic setting, and even if you don’t have power, because it sits out of the fireplace itself, the place can be warmed with radiant heat! Woo-hoo!
Also, the warmth has done wonders for the winter blues my poor darling suffers through each dark season. We’re both considerably more chipper now that we’re actually warm.
Of course, my only regret in spending that much money is that we’ll probably only be around for another two or three years to enjoy it. After that, we’ll be moving… but that’s a story that still has to wait.
So, the blower story… We’d been talking to Tam’s mom about the fireplace insert and she was always calling with advice or questions. One day we’d gone out to her place for some plums and she came running from the house telling us that her brother had told her to tell us that we HAVE to get a blower for the insert.
The minute someone tells me I HAVE to do something, I’m all about dragging my heels and doing pretty much the polar opposite. Oppositional
Defiance, anyone? Anyway,
I told her what we were looking for and I explained that I didn’t want one that
relies on a blower for the heat because in the event of a power outage, I still
wanted heat! Besides, the damn things are noisy.
That night, Tam and I were sitting at home when I said, “Your mom couldn’t understand why I didn’t want a blower.”
My darling stopped what she was doing and gave me a look. Then I realized how what I just said must have sounded with all the words kind of scrunched together.
“Ok, that sounded bad. You know with the insert. Ooh fuck it.”
“So…what reason did you give her?”
“Because of the noise.”
Black Friday brought us to the annual sock raid at a local department store. Spawn and I try to go every year for socks and a few gifts. Tam joined us and while we were wandering around, I happened to find one of those memory foam mattresses (the inexpensive kind that come in a box) and it was on sale for 50% off. We’ve been needing a new mattress as the old one was trying to kill us. So I bought it.
Wow, that memory foam stuff is HOT, and when you’re menopausal, it’s kind of uncomfortable. But, I’m not quite as stiff and sore in the mornings as I have been, so I’ll deal with it.
On that note, I’ll leave you with a bit of Peace on Earth. Courtesy of Zoe and L.B.C.