are we spoiled, or what?

atmos changed out the gas meter in the alley yesterday.  abel installed a new meter that will be remotely read from who knows where. technology reared its' evil head and one more job description goes the way of the dinosaur.   in the process he discovered what i had suspected for a while, okay years,  that there's a gas leak in the supply pipe going in to the house.   when that happens the gas company puts a lock on the meter which will only be removed once the leak has been repaired.

i called to 1-800-plumber right away.  they promised someone would be out between 1 and 3. As good as their word, mykal and his compadre arrived at shortly after 1. in short order they had confirmed that indeed  the 40+ year old supply pipe had oxidized to the point it was leaking. After only two trips back to the shop for parts, the repair was complete.  of course, by that time it was late and no way would the city be able to come by to inspect their work and of course atmos could not turn the gas back on until the city did its thing.

that brings me to the point of this little rant. that is-- how extremely comfortable the life most of us here in the good old US of A are privileged to enjoy.

i've remarked before in this space about growing up on a dry land cotton farm in the 50's and 60's. we survived without benefit of central air and heating, without hot water at hand, without indoor plumbing. the only heat source came from the butane tank out in the yard.  in winter, my dad insisted that the space heater in the middle of the room had to be turned off.  there was a risk of being gassed if the flame went out i suppose but that little three roomed hovel we called home was far from airtight. if i'd have had a vote it would have been. "lets risk it".  without insulation in the walls or the attic, the temp in the room come morning was equal to that just beyond the walls. the same could be said for summer, but i digress.  every winter morning, i was awakened by my dad's yell, "hey, joe-- get up and light the fire".

last night the temp outside got down into the twenties. i had a fire in the fireplace, the electric oven on low with the door ajar and every light in the house on for the little heat they put out.  the temp in the house with the help of our new triple pane windows, the insulation in the walls behind the brick veneer and in the attic was a mild 65 degrees.  a little chill but nothing like the outside.

luckily the city got here to do their inspection first thing this morning. the repair passed and soon after atmos came back to turn the gas back on.

do i want to go back to the good old days? no thanks. but as they say, 'what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.'  i don't know about that.  what i do know is, i'm blessed.

aio

my daddy...

today marks what would have been my dad's 101st birthday.  he'll have been gone 36 years in the fall.  on occasion through the years I've paused to think on more than a few what ifs and if onlys.

What if the cancer hadn't taken him at age 65.  would he have continued to have the run of the T-bar ranch? would my kids have enjoyed hunting whatever was in season with him or fishing for perch and crappie in the stock tanks? if only, they might have a totally different perspective on life.

if only he'd lived long enough to see his still young grandchildren grow into young adulthood with life events yet to be revealed. if only he could have lived into a ripe old age and been able to witness all the milestone events that have come along since he passed.

if only, i'd be able to tell him, "happy birthday, daddy", one more time.

What if i just say it anyway. i miss you, dad. happy birthday.



 

My best intentions...

recently i learned a new member of the fam has written a book.  while it is still in the first draft stage, i cannot express how much that impresses me.  back in the day i read a lot of western themed novels by max brand and the lot.  i think  i've read every one of louis lamour's tales featuring jim chee and joe leaphorn as the central characters. i loved reading dana stabenow's series featuring kate shugak.  her descriptions of alaska and its frozen countryside chill me to the bone. her words paint the beauty of Alaska's native peoples and their history.

i got it in my head. after reading so many of these well crafted tales that i would try my hand at penning a story of my own. much to my chagrin, i'm here to tell you I barely got past the opening line.  a fully formed first paragraph never happened. no next great novel sprung from this feeble mind.

that brings me back to how much i admire j.m. and all those authors who've afforded me hours of escape over the years. you are my heroes and i'm more than a little envious.