Sunday, January 7, 2018

Post from the Frozen Tundra

I treasure the individual "dates" I get with a son.  Caleb let me join him at the art museum.  I love watching him transition from a child into an interesting adult.

It's 29 degrees right now, and I am giddy; it feels tropical.  I'm tempted to toss on a tank top and lather on some sunscreen.  Last week, temperatures dipped under zero degrees.  The "feels like" temperature was too upsetting to record.  For days, we cocooned ourselves under blankets and layers of clothing.  We prayed that God would teleport us to either Florida or to April...asap.

To make matters worse, water stopped flowing from our faucets, showers, and toilets yesterday morning.  I think it was just too cold to move.  One doesn't truly appreciate running water until it's not running.

The fact that we lack running water has been met with mixed emotions.  The boys feel like their prayers have been answered with the non-working showers and the encouragement to relieve themselves in the great outdoors.  Chris, ever the frugal optimist, believes running water is right around the corner.  He assures us that there was no need to bother a plumber.  Spring will come soon enough.  As for me, the lady of the group, showers and working toilets seem like a necessity, not a bonus amenity.

This morning, the faucets were still silent.  The garage was flooded with water which had spilled out onto our drive way.  We now have a homemade ice rink outside our back door.

I'm no plumber, but things seem off.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.  A professional has been called.  With everyone else battling their own busted pipes, he is slated to visit our home tomorrow. 

Until then, we're praying for water, or spring.  Whichever comes first.

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