Welcome to my world!

My life's been crazy since my Daddy moved in with me immediately after my mother's death in October 2010. My one and only kiddo headed to college at Carolina at the end of August. So...I lived on my own, for the first time in my life, for a total of a blissful six weeks. Then, I started the parenting gig with my dad. He's a combination of a grouchy old man, a surly teenager and a temperamental toddler. Needless to say, I get very close to the brink of insanity sometimes. I get through life by finding the humor in difficult circumstances. And for some reason, I wind up in the weirdest situations. I couldn't make this stuff up. So I wind up having lots and lots crazy adventures which make great stories to share with my friends. Writing about my life is so therapeutic. My ramblings range from funny to sad to angry (full of cuss words) to sweet. While my focus is dealing with the trials and tribulations of being a parent to my Daddy, I have lots of random, totally unrelated posts. Whatever's on my mind. I love to make people laugh, and I'm happy to think my readers will get my strange sense of humor. And maybe, people who are in my situation will be encouraged. That's all I can hope for...

Tuesday, October 30, 2012


...is ever easy.  The latest calamity is my non-functioning furnace.  The same furnace for which I paid dearly this summer.  I'll try not to make this into a saga, so here's my attempt at the executive summary.  Cliff Notes?

Yesterday, I noticed that it was kinda cold downstairs.  Not intolerable for me, but the Daddler started bitching.  I fiddled with my fancy, new-fangled electronic thermostat.  I managed to make the heat come on.  Miraculously, the house warmed up.  The D was still complaining about how cold it was in the back of the house (his senior suite, specifically), and I explained that his faux-fireplace-space heater warmed up the living and dining rooms (where the thermostat was located), and consequently, the thermostat thought it was warm enough, so it stopped the furnace when it touched its target temp.  And that since we have to hermetically seal the rear of the house with a series of doors (to keep Lucy from running roughshod through it,) the heat wasn't distributed democratically.  That seemed to appease (confuse?) him.  It probably didn't hurt that I'd schlepped him to early voting and Picadilly that morning.  Talk about a dutiful daughter.  I'm sorry, but DillyPic (his pet name for it,) isn't my fav.  I love salt, but they go overboard, even for me.  I suppose all those old people with impaired taste buds appreciate surplus salinity.

Ok, back to the frigid furnace fiasco...  This morning, I came downstairs bright and early.  I noticed a chill in the air.  Yup.  The thermostat read 60 degrees.  I checked the pilot light.  Still lit.  I worked on the thermostat.  Went around the house and felt the air near the vents.  Listened for the fan to kick on.  Nothing.  Nada.  Nyet. Negatory.

I cranked up The D's little fireplace.  Prepared my speech.  When I heard him shuffling around, slamming doors, I made my pre-emptive strike.  I explained that I'd checked the pilot light.  It was fine.  I had a call in to the HVAC man.  That seemed to appease him.  Not too much grumbling.  Glory be to God.

When I called Mr. HVAC, his lackey answered and explained to me that it's impossible for the pilot light to go out.  I explained that it did, indeed, go out.  I was promised a service call, but I'm not holding my breath.  I am, however, about to check the prices for faux fireplaces on Amazon.  Path of least resistance.  Pathetic, I know...

Oh, well.  I'm tired of all this.  I give up.  I've given it my best shot.

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