Our Humble Abode

Pithy stays at a great house--overseen by a great landWoman and, like we have said before, pretty much the best deal in town. That said, it would only be half the story to go any longer without a few semi-gregarious comments about our situation.

This morning Tom was awakened by what seemed the sound of heavy breathing--panting--through the wall in the bathroom. In that half-way place of sleep and wakefulness, he thinks he imagines the sound--that it is just the shower. The sleep subsides and it dawns: there is no propane--it IS the shower, the shower and Prudence as she "breathe counts" her way through the apocalyptically cold washing of her hair. Jerry has similar stories, but we will spare our gentle readership THAT tmi.

The fridge pretends to be cold. Upon arriving three weeks ago, there were two solid blocks of ice in the freezer (and an ample coating of ice in the back of the fridge's insides), so solid, in fact, the idea of a fridge in freezer's clothing never crosses our minds. No, this sneaky ice-caked imposter preys upon our innocence and we fill it with many safekeepings--lettuce, milk, butter, the infamous avocadoes--and we shut the door, quietly confident in its ability, like Horton of old, to protect the eggs.

A gallon of sour milk (and half-and-half), one camping cooler and a drink fridge from Craigslist later, we call landWoman. The response ? Have we burped it yet? Now, Pithy is not wise in all worldly things--we strive to develop in many directions, and have gained many valuable pieces of knowledge--but never have we heard of burping a refrigerator. Acceding to the greater wisdom of landWoman, Tom and Jerry gather the infant between them and gently rock--nothing. No gaseous expulsion of any kind, not even a hiccup. Perhaps not the best idea we think, but landWoman proves us wrong when--four hours later--the fridge at last passes the bubble and settles into its cool hibernation.

There are many things--things which we are sure will one day gain that special status of "remember that one time when we lived at that one place and had that one dishwasher that was so noisy you couldn't hear yourself talk if you spoke into a stethoscope?--that was awesome!"--that try us. And while they may once be immortalized in ballad, presently they are irritating, and we hope to distract ourselves by laughing at them.