Always Something

I read Kaki Warner’s blog entry, laughed, made a comment about Basenji’s. We raised them years ago and knew a few things about their personality quirks. Loved the dogs. They are really sweet, but as she said, hardheaded. Most hounds are because they were breed to think for their selves. Our two were great with our boys, too.

Never did I expect a bit of her holiday mishaps to bite me.

But I couldn’t quite deny the pain in my tooth. Not too bad, it could wait. Besides I couldn’t seem to tell which tooth actually hurt, if it was in the tooth or the gum.

1:30 in the morning my husband is called for work. I needed to fix coffee and his lunch. I ran downstairs to get a loaf of bread from the freeze and got half way back up the stairs before I realized that loaf wasn’t at all that it should be—such as, frozen. Back down I go, check things out. Puzzle over why some things seem to be thawing and some things remain frozen. Gasket seems fine, nothing keeping the door from closing, can hear the motor running, but some things have definitely begun to thaw out. It’s 1:30 in the morning. I’m not working on all cylinders.

Husband checks things out, says the door must have been left ajar. Ok, that happens. I’m vigilant about it because when the boys were at home, it happened a few times. An expensive accident at a time when money was ever tight.

Next day (Sunday) tooth is killing me. Pretty sure by now, it’s a broken tooth (the third this year.) I check the freezer, set a thermometer on the bottom shelf and wait thirty minutes. It reads 20°. Still, the stuff in the bottom bin is thawing out, no matter what the thing says.

Upsetting for several reasons. The stuff thawing out is things I have on hand for quick meals for when my husband is called at the last minute or I’m too tired to cook, or in a white heat of writing because even then, we have to eat. I have sliced turkey from Thanksgiving for divan or sandwiches, sliced standing rib from Christmas for French dips, Ham from New Year’s for casseroles, sandwiches, and frizzled ham dinners.

I called one of my sons and he helped move what was still frozen into my other freezer. (Yes, two freezers.)

The 4th falling on a Sunday, everyone seems to be celebrating a different day. I get the feeling my dentist is celebrating today. I’m waiting a call, debating whether they’re in the office and busy like their message says or if this qualifies as an emergency because they are out of the office for the holiday. And waiting for my husband to get home from his trip to pick out another freezer.

Holiday weekend cost: $400 for our portion of the crown (thank heavens for insurance), $600 or so for new freeze (that one was over 12 years old) and still nothing close to Kaki’s worst holiday.

What I’ve learned: It’s always something. Keep writing anyway.