Saturday, December 16, 2006
Who Knew a Trailer Could Fall in Love?
It's been a busy few days, not necessarily intentionally. I think the Tinpalace has a crush on our RV repair man. She keeps finding ways to lure him back.
The ladie's coffee group is having a cookie exchange at our meeting next Monday morning. I decided a couple of days ago that I needed to get in gear and get my six dozen cookies baked. We have a nifty little stove. Three burners up on top, and an oven the size of a bread box. I have used the burners almost daily since we arrived, but have never once lit the oven. I use the microwave, as I know using the oven will turn the tinpalace into a slighter larger oven.
I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. The pilot light lit right away but the oven itself wouldn't light. Hmmmmm. GARRRRYYYYYYY! He came just as I was changing from my jammies yesterday morning and after taking all the bits apart discovered that the tiny jet the gas feeds through from the pilot to under the thermocoupler was plugged. If you hold a flame under the right spot the oven lights right up, but goes out as soon as that flame is moved away. Couldn't get the jet unplugged so he called and ordered a replacement and will be back next week. I bought six dozen cookies today. sigh
In the meantime, we had a heck of a storm a couple of days ago. Terrific winds, and another snowfall. Flakes as big as silver dollars, never seen the like of that before and I've seen plenty of snow. At some point during this storm the wind blew out the pilot light on the furnace. It is a witch to light, you have to lay on the floor, hold a button in at a very awkward angle for six or eight minutes, hold your mouth right, pray, call on the spirits of your ancestors, promise never to think another bad thought as long as you live, swear to do charitable deeds, wear sackcloth and ashes .... and then it lights. Or it always has in the past.
Not this time. I've tried to light the thing for two days and can not get it to catch. Don't know why, the glow plug is heating up, but that's as far as my understanding of how furnaces work goes. GARRRRYYYYYY!!!!! Thankfully we have two very efficient panel heaters and a small electric heater with a fan that keeps the air circulating. It got down to -8 last night, but we never dropped below 70 d F. inside. We're probably fine to -15, but then I'd start to worry about the pipes under the floor. Gary is going off on holidays after Christmas, gotta get this fixed before he goes.
Last night was "Light-Up" in Oliver. They close down the main drag, there's street dancing, games, food, caroling, a visit from Santa and to close, a fireworks display. I thought, since Oliver has all of 4000 people, that the fireworks display would be six Roman candles and a firecracker, but the display was spectacular, as good as the Stampede's fireworks! We enjoyed watching from a perfect vantage point, looking out our side window. Tony didn't even sit up.
Two of the fellows get up early one morning a month and make breakfast for everyone in the park who wants to come; pancakes, scrambled eggs, sausages and coffee. This was the morning, so we started the day by sharing breakfast with most of the people in the park, including our newest neighbours Des and Carol. What a nice couple! We've really got wonderful people around us. It's so much fun being here.
Even though it was crisp outside today it was sunny. Love to see that sun! By noon we were on our way to town with the laundry, and while Tony watched the clothes go round and round I ran to the grocery store for cookies and to the pharmacy to get disc one of Handel's Messiah to complete the set. Once we had the clothes folded we had lunch in town and then came home to put clothes and groceries away. A very productive day!
Now it's 3:15 and the sun has disappeared behind the mountain to the west. I have to take the tinpalace behind the woodshed and talk to her about the facts of life. Mostly financial facts. Gary's a perfectly nice man, but she has to understand that she's fallen for someone who charges for his time, and that means tears before bedtime, unless she has some cunning plan for making her own money.