Woke up this morning to the sounds of earth-moving equipment outside my window. An excavator was digging a huge hole in the parking strip next to our driveway to make way for the "Hole Hog" which would soon be tunneling ten feet underground, making its way from the street to the gas meter recently installed near our front door. The guys from Potelco have the street blocked off and more white trucks arrive hourly. If only Nick were still six years old--he would be in heaven!
The oil ran out sooner than we expected during the cold snap two weeks ago, and though we made arrangements to have a gas furnace installed to replace the ancient oil one, it turns out that Christmas week is not a good time to run out of anything. We've been without central heating for the better part of a week
and it will feel good to feel my toes and fingers again, and as much as I love wood fires, the campfire ambience is not wearing well. Smokiness has permeated everything.
Piper had been missing all the snow from last year, and even more, she missed the campout festiveness of being without electricity that attends wintry weather from time to time in these parts. Careful what you wish for! Though we have had electricity, being without central heating brought the family closer together in many ways: three in a bed heaped with blankets, the cats are much more affectionate, we take care of household chores with alacrity because movement=warmth, and the fact that it's warmer outdoors makes it much more fun to walk the dog. Here's to hot soup and warm sherry and lots of baking.
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