Lord of the Rings has a quote for everything. "You shall not pass," is always a good one. I've said, "It burns us," more times than I can count. This morning, "I do not think this darkness will endure," worked perfectly. I'm sure there were a few people who were thinking I was being all deep and whatnot with the state of the world and America and politics and religion and yadda, yadda, yadda. Nope. C'mon y'all...you know I'm not that deep. Raccoons got in the attic AGAIN last night and jacked up the ceiling fan. It's pretty darkish in here. Adam's supposed to fix it this afternoon. So, no, I do not believe this darkness will endure. I really should buy a "I'm a dork" t-shirt so they know to see it coming....
You know I never blog unless something goes wrong. That might not be entirely true really. Usually by the end something has gone right or else I probably wouldn't be blogging about it.
It's the simplest things that get me. Maybe I'm a book smarts person and my common sense is lacking. As I said last night, I think I'm on some sort of twisted reality show. They really should clue me in so I can at least get a cut of the profits.
Okay, so our house is old. Very old. I'm talking they brought this thing over on the Mayflower or some crap (me, exaggerate?! NEVAH!!). We have this huge floor furnace of a deal in the hall that heats the house. Well, most of the house. Well, that's not entirely true either. It heats about 1/3 of the house if we're not counting the basement. It gets hotter than the gates of Hades and if you step on the metal grate while it's on, you will have a nifty rectangular pattern all up on the bottom of your foot. Now, I'm not judging the folks who get branded these days. I hear it's a fad, but this is not even worth it. After the first or second time, you remember. Or at least you hope you do.
Last night it was chilly in here so I decided to turn the heat up just a smidge. Simple enough really, just adjust the thermostat and ta-da!! Beautiful heat shall spring forth from the loins of the hunka metal up in the floor. It's soooo much easier than wood burning! Not as cheap, but you do what you can with what you got.
Last night I didn't hear the familiar "whoosh" I normally hear when adjusting the thermostat. Okay. No biggie, it's either the pilot light or the thing just isn't on. Maybe it's just not on. Glance---welllll poop. Okay. No biggie.
For I am woman hear me roar.
Lalala....grab a lighter....lalala...head downstairs....lalala...I'm gonna light this sucker up and be done with it.
Again, I only blog when something goes wrong. I know you're not expecting me to say, "And the pilot light was on and everything was peachy and life went on as we know it and all that beautiful stuff."
Ah...and dear reader, I shall not disappoint.
So I'm standing there looking up at the knob I'm supposed to turn to press down for ignition. First I should tell you I hate pilot lights. They hate me with ever fiber of their being and I'll be the first to tell ya, the feeling is mutual. I go to turn the knob. I normally like to start these jobs cautiously optimistic, but again, this was a pilot light.
The knob wouldn't turn. Not left, not right. It wouldn't push down or pull up. It was just stuck. I was halfway afraid of putting too much pressure on it cause I might break it off then we'd have a hecka issue on our hands.
So I stood there for about 5 minutes putting a little more pressure on it both ways. It was not moving.
Sometimes I hate these blogs because they make me sound so stinkin' helpless. I'm not helpless...Adam's my help. Teehee.... So I call him up. Apparently he's been stupid busy all night and I'm in no mood to be on the phone.
He says to turn it clockwise. In my frustration I can not figure out what the heck he's talking about cause the ding dang thing will not budge. So I'm like, "Toward the washer or toward the wall." He's like, "clockwise."
Mmmkay...clockwise. The way a clock goes. Narf. So I give it a bit more pressure and it turns...finally. We say our goodbyes, I apologize profusely for being a spaz and we hang up the phone. So yay. Now the button will push down and I can get this thing lit.
I hate child proof lighters. I know they're necessary, but yo, this lighter was not only child proof, it was everyone proof. It was one of those longer ones that we got just for lighting pilot lights. You gotta push this thingy back with your thumb then push the trigger. Sounds easy enough, right? Dude, I'm telling you, 6 gallons of WD-40 would not have made this thing easier to light. Well...that might not be entirely true. That stuff is flammable and the slightest spark would probably light it up with a quickness.
Finally, I got the pilot light lit and I'm holding the knob of a deal down for a few minutes to get the gas flowing. All the while I'm absolutely convinced something is going to go wrong and I'll go down in a blaze of glory, or in this case, an explosion of glory. If there is glory in trying to light a pilot light.
I'm not kidding, y'all... It took 6 tries with that stupid fat lighter making my hand get all crampy. By this point I just wanna smack it...
With my mind on murder and murder on my mind...... (I use the term murder way too loosely these days...I know....)
So I did. I smacked it. Crampy hand, standing in the cold basement, very nearly in tears of frustration...I just hauled off and smacked it. And dude, I'm telling you, it worked!! I gave it one more try and it worked!
"Up, up, up the stairs we go..."
And there it was! Bursting with glorious heat! I had beaten the dinosaur with one well placed smack! They say violence never solves anything. Pssht.
...and the heat is on...