There’s a story there…somewhere

Avalanche!

We had to replace the roof this summer, and we went with a steel roof. We knew this would mean snow wouldn’t stay put on the roof, but, um, we weren’t really prepared for what that would mean in actual practical everyday results.

Last night it was all very exciting as the kids and I watched and waited for the sheets of packed snow to slide down the steel, break free into the air and explode into snow boulders as they hit the ground.

But the view’s a little different today. Here’s the porch:

And here are the five steps to my front door. Or rather, here AREN’T the five steps to my front door:
Good thing shovelling’s not my job. :>
© Lizann Flatt, www.lizannflatt.com
No part of this blog may be used without written permission from the author.

Happy Groundhog Day

The verdict is in: six more weeks of winter. The groundhog closest to me, Wiarton Willie, saw his shadow. And so did his counterparts Shubenacadie Sam and Punxsutawney Phil. So it’s unanimous.

Sigh.

Somehow I’m not surprised. I got stuck in my driveway on Friday for the second time this year. The power went out this morning. And so it goes.

But back to groundhogs.

When I was little I called groundhogs “twitchy.” As in they weren’t groundhogs, they were twitchies. I grew up in the middle of a field, the back section of which was filled with asparagus someone had planted at one time but then grew up “wild” year after year. (Feral asparagus? Now there’s something to ponder.) Needless to say, that field of asparagus was Groundhog Heaven!!!

But anyway, one day a groundhog came right up to the back of the house and looked in the window. I stood there watching its whiskers twitching, and I said “Twitchy!” (According to my parents; my memory’s not that good.) So ever after at our house, all groundhogs were called Twitchy. If I saw one out in the field I’d yell “Twitchy!” and Dad would go get his pellet rifle. He rarely connected (sorry, Dad). Yeah, this was the 70s way out in the boonies. You had to be there.

But while I’m thinking groundhogs, check out The Groundhog Day Book of Facts and Fun by Wendie Old.

May it help me remember we shouldn’t shoot the messenger.

© Lizann Flatt, www.lizannflatt.com
No part of this blog may be used without written permission from the author.

Stinky Situation Solved

At least one of the grumbles from the other day has been solved. But it’s a bit embarrassing how it all turned out. That stinky melting plastic-y smell coming from my car? I couldn’t stand it anymore. Envisioning my car catching fire while I was in the middle of nowhere among other disastrous causes/effects was driving me crazy. Only using the heater at half capacity in an attempt to avoid the smell was (a.) freezing me to death and (b.) not working. So I broke down and took the car into the garage to find the source of the stink.

Turns out a lousy plastic grocery bag had become stuck to the catalytic converter (or whatever–some part underneath the car that gets hot, I am no expert on cars) and was melting on it so the fan was blowing the smell inside the car. I’d likely driven over the bag at some point.

More litter plaguing my life!

Yet another reason to hate those plastic bags!

Bet the garage guys got a good laugh at me.

A small bit of stink lingers, like my vague feeling that perhaps I should have discovered the root cause myself, but in my defense I am not in the habit of lying on the ground and crawling under my car.

The end result is that I am a little lighter in the wallet (groan) but also a little lighter in the worry department. Phew!

© Lizann Flatt, www.lizannflatt.com
No part of this blog may be used without written permission from the author.