What could those two possible have to do with each other, you may be asking. Well, I’ll tell you.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Except for the fact that one is the bane of my existence, and the other I rather quite enjoy.
If you knew me as a child, you’ll assume that you know which is which, and I’ll be happy to confirm that you’re WRONG! As wrong as humanly possible (and it gives me such delight to do a happy dance about that, I have no idea why).
Let me start with the fires. As a child, I was hopeless at starting a fire. We would go camping for a week in the AZ White Mountains (a tradition I bowed out of as soon as I could, have you ever tried to shave in a cold river????), and if I was the first one awake, I was freezing. I couldn’t get a fire going to save my life (literally, I could have been hypothermic half of those mornings). One particularly cold morning, my brother and I (yes, I’m outing you here Kevin) were desperate for some heat, and tried pouring some lantern oil on the logs which had a little bitty flame on it, like we’d seen my father do. Whoops! The fire came up the oil stream and into the can!!!! We ran around as silently as possible, hoping not to alert our father to what we’d done, but praying for deliverance in what must have looked like the St. Clair version of Benny Hill. Thankfully, my sister’s boyfriend (now husband) heard us and came out and so ingeniously put his hand over the opening on the can. He saved the majority of the oil, and us from certain death when our father found out we’d managed to burn all the lantern oil while it was still in the can.
I am now a fire goddess. Or pyromaniac. It’s such a fine line. Our water stove can run on fuel oil or wood, and now that it’s been really cold, we’ve switched to wood because the fuel oil is just too expensive. And I LOVE tending the stove! When I don’t have to worry about getting smokey before work, I amble over to the garage, get my kindling, make my little fire tent and light her up! First I have to see if I can meet the challenge of not using a lighter, if I can get it going just from the embers from the previous night. I may nearly hyperventilate and faint, but I don’t quit, and can usually accomplish the task (I wonder if Lowe’s carries bellows, I really need one).
Next, to the bane of my existence. Carwashes. My Arizona friends, you know not dirty cars. If you’d like to experience a truly dirty car, get a bucket of shaved ice, mix it with equal parts salt, and go out and dump it on the roof of your car. Let it melt and dry, and then take a look. In Arizona, I always thought the back window wiper was basically useless (you never want to use that to get the dust of your window). Now I understand the desperate need for that thing. As well as how quickly a back-up camera is rendered useless. Never while in Arizona did I wash my car three times in one week. Here, I’m making a budget line item for them. I have learned that while the cost of living is a little bit less than in Tucson but fairly close, we are considered very good tippers. So the kids at the Autobell love to see me coming. In fact, they may be coming out and salting my driveway, even when the weather is perfectly pleasant, just to make sure I’ll be in.
We are currently surviving Snowpacolypse. I’ve posted an album on Facebook, and here’s a link. You don’t need to be on Facebook to see it.
Hope everyone is enjoying their warm weather. Just remember, any weather taunts will be returned tenfold in July (when we’re 75 with very little humidity)….