Holy Smokes

You know, I didn't plan to just drop off the face of the earth.

I knew blogs this week would be scarce, and I promise you, my dear friends and blogees, I'd had all intentions of writing a little paragraph or so to tell you this. Then everything just crept up on me, from behind, like a thief in the night.

Let's go back to Friday.

I was feeling quite perky and well-rested after a week of trying to watch the PBS Ken Burns snoozefest "The War," and so on Friday I came home, changed clothes, and hit the yard. It was my last Friday Chill for a while, you see, with Oktoberfest changing from the Saturday nights of September to the Friday-Saturdays of October. I had one last Chill Night till November, and I was determined to make the most of it.

I mowed the lawn. And by the way, an unanswered comment answered, LilyG - mowing haberdashery? Generally the red cap emblazoned with the Mr Peabody patch, but occasionally the B'burg Community Band bucket hat. Depending on the mood. Friday was Peabody. I was feeling extra smart.

When I came in from mowing, though it wasn't particularly hot outside, it seemed rather tepid and moist inside. Or maybe it was just my skin and hair that were tepid and moist. In any case, I walked over to my thermostat, slid it downwards a touch, and - nothing. And I knew why it seemed tepid and moist, and I yelled, "Shit!" loudly enough for it to be heard all the way to the Town Hall, not the old Town Hall a medium walk away from my house, but the new Town Hall, which is definitely driving distance. And I yelled, "Shit!" for a reason.

My heat pump was acting up again.

You know, I've had my share of heat pump skirmishes before, throughout my storied almost 6-year hold of the Poderosa, skirmishes I generally win but they're costly victories. Costly money-wise and costly "The June Taylor Dancers Doing a Full Tap Extravaganza Complete With the Lying in the Floor Aerial Shot Inside My Nervous System"-wise.

I walked outside, and came face to face with a heat pump that was not working. I walked back in the house, and, in a last-ditch effort to get some results, hiked the temperature down a little more. I heard the thing cut on. I went to the kitchen and raised my hand. I felt cold air, which was about as exciting as it gets here at the Poderosa. I went outside again just for good measure, looked at the little heat pump unit, and it was trundling right along like a good soldier.

Until I came back inside. Then I started hearing noises, well, Lord Have Mercy, you just wouldn't believe.

It started when I'd been inside the house for about five minutes, I was sitting at the Nerve Center checking my email. Pops. Buzzes. Pwnngs, Fffffts, Pbbbbts, a couple of Weeeeheeee RrrRRrrrrRRRrrrs, and at one point I got up to look because I thought maybe a one-man band was marching by the house. But no, there he was, my little heat pump, trundling along.

Until the *Ssssssssss.* When the *Sssssssssss* came along, it didn't emanate from the heat pump. It was from the furnace unit inside my house. And it sounded very electrical. And when that *Ssssssssss* left, it just about took every appliance I had with it.

The TV, lights, and computer all dimmed. The refrigerator grunted. I gasped, and then did that deadliest of all deeds, went and turned off my heat pump. I'd rather eat live worms than do that. I'm a woman of a certain age. I don't care if it is officially Autumn, I need air conditioning! But I don't have it now.

I don't have it because this all happened on a Friday night, the (*whoooosh!*) Furnace Man couldn't come till Tuesday, and when he did, the prognosis wasn't good. In fact, the patient died. My compressor is out, and I can spend a whopping amount for a new one to put into my old heat pump, or a little more of a whopping amount for a brand new heat pump. At this point, I don't care, I'd go in debt for $20,000 for an entire new heating system for my house and the ones on either side of me, I just want cold air in the Poderosa. But they still haven't gotten back to me as to what's the "best way" for me to go.

If they haven't called by noon tomorrow, I'm calling and telling them if they can install the $20,000 three-house system by Friday, I'll pay cash. There has to be a bank somewhere around here with a lax security system.

So anyway, that little episode of my life began, and I must say, it was blissfully cool around here Friday night. I slept with the windows open and it was rather comforting. It's just the past two days that the temperature has risen back to where it was during summer. But back to Friday night. It was cool, my windows were open, and I worked on the Fifth Great CD Mix Exchange all Friday night. I mean that. All night. I finished up at 4:30 Saturday morning. I finally got all my songs matched up to their categories, made a playlist, recorded that playlist to try and get the sound levels even (I don't even know if it helped much), made my CD inserts, and recorded myself the first copy.

Played it going to B'burg and Oktoberfest on Saturday, and it's not too bad. Certainly not my best exchange, not by a longshot, but I can live with it. Listened to the CD all the way to Mr M's, where it was dirndls, lederhosen, and back up the mountain to Oktoberfest, Week Two. More fun than the first week. I didn't drink beer, I went with shots, tried something called a Starry Night, which is Jagermeister and Goldschlager, which sounds absolutely stomach-turning but isn't too bad. Then I had a taste of Fearless Leader Ed's Baronjager, a honey-flavored schnapps, and thought it was so good, all I wanted was a biscuit to pour it over. Needless to say, headed back down the mountain in the passenger seat of my automobile quite loopy, and slept fairly well Saturday night.

Sunday, back home, and - an early recording of the hucklebug podcast. We couldn't do Monday this week. So that pretty much shot the ass-end out of Picture Sunday, which was OK, because I hadn't taken any pictures and didn't have the slightest idea what I could do for a recipe. Sunday was also my buddy Stennie's birthday, so it was fun to record that night, even though we're convinced what came of it is the absolute worst podcast we've ever done.

We did, however, have a smokin' good time, because - it's the last smokin' podcast either of us will be doing. At midnight Sunday night/Monday morning, we both became "reformed smokers." Yep, Stennie wanted to quit on her birthday this year, and to be honest, I was getting kind of tired of living under the haze of a clove cigarette myself, and so I joined in the battle with her. So we smoked like madwomen Sunday night, I smoked while I finished up making the CDs for the Mix Exchange, and while I addressed the envelopes for same, and finally midnight came and I threw away my smokes.

Monday was not the usual podcast night, nor was it acromania night, but another Sauerkraut Band gig. A private party. For the Volvarians. Well, that's what I kept calling them, it was some private party for Volvo employees. It actually was a pretty fun gig as these things go, they seemed to enjoy us, and the only downside for me was the driving. The longer I drove home Monday night, it seemed the farther away from home I was. I didn't think I'd ever get there, and I'm perfectly willing to admit that this is because one of my two favorite smoking venues is the lengthy car drive. The other is the podcast. But in the end, I made it home safely, smoke-free, and just in time to go to bed.

Tuesday was not Blog In Earnest Day, it was Haircut Day. Well, before it was Haircut Day, though, it was Clean The Hell Out Of Your Dennette Day. See, I'd said about quitting smoking, the main reason I wanted to do it was to get my "stuff" back. My dennette, my car, my hair, my clothes. I wanted them to smell like they used to. Well, Tuesday I started with the dennette, the only room of the Pod I let myself smoke in, by the way. So you can image just how smokey it was. I dusted, vacuumed, threw away, sprayed, and removed all ashy remnants of what I hope will become my former life. Then it was the haircut. Then it was - no, I know you won't believe it - relaxation! I sat down for two hours and watched a movie. Then I went to bed, fan upon me, hot, panting, sweating, and cursing whoever invented air conditioning and got me hooked on it.

Today could have been Community Band Practice Day, it normally is, but I'm giving that a pass tonight. The reason for this is tomorrow night is Sauerkraut Band Retirement Home Benefit Day, and I'll be damned if I'm traveling to B'burg five nights of a six night span. So instead, tonight became Stay Home And Take Back Your Car! Day, which meant I cleaned the hell out of my car as well. Vacuuming, cleaning windows inside and out, cleaning all the surfaces - yes, the only reminders of a smoker's life in my car shall be the three ugly cigarette burns on the console, burns I gave Podmobile2 before he was even a year old.

Then it's Sauerkraut Banding it tomorrow night (see above), Friday night, and Saturday Night.

You know, I've told you many times before, there's always a point during Oktoberfest where I realize I've got more going on than I can handle and I have a miniature nervous breakdown. I lay on the bed and boo-hoo for a couple of hours, then it's all over with and I go back to living my life.

I see the miniature nervous breakdown coming a little early this year. Like maybe this weekend.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Dear Michelle,
I blogged.
Thanks for caring,
Bet