Ruth J. Hartman
I e-mailed my husband at work. I told him what was going on. He e-mailed back.
“Have you looked in the basement lately?”
“Hmmm. Well, no.” I try to avoid it at all costs. It’s a damp, smelly, spider haven on the best of days. It’s not what some people would call a family room or rec room. It’s more of a dungeon.
And this time the dungeon was surrounded by a mote. A big one.
Our plumber, while ankle deep in water down there, informed me that everything was wet.
“No, everything. Your furnace. Your water heater. Your water softener. Even the dehumidifier that’s supposed to keep things dry.”
Well wasn’t that an extra kick in the head while I was already down?
Trying to get ready for work the next day was interesting. The temperature outside had dropped again, so we were huddled in blankets while we drew straws to see who had to endure a not-so-hot shower first. I left for work early just so I could sit in my Jeep with the heater on. But I was halfway to work before it thawed me out.
So I wasn’t looking forward to the following day much. Yes, I would be off work, but I’d be cold at home. My days off were when I got most of my writing done. But I knew I wouldn’t be inclined to sit in front of my computer wrapped in a blanket while attempting to type with numb fingers. And typing with mittens is just plain silly.
But it didn’t come to that. I watched our outdoor thermometer steadily rise. Once it hit 55, I had the windows open. It was warmer out there than in here! And with the open windows came the sounds of early spring. The shrill cry of the blue jays. The twitter of chipping sparrows. And the chatter of yellow and purple finches. My two cats sat in the open windows and avidly spied on the unsuspecting birds. I stuck my head out the door. Crocuses popped their heads above the ground, checking to see if it was time to get up yet. Ah, spring. As my body thawed, so did my mind. Creative juices flowing, I dove into my current work in progress with a silly grin on my face.
If the rains hadn’t come causing my furnace to malfunction, I would never have opened my windows. I would have missed the exhilarating signs of early spring.
Who says a dungeon with a mote can’t bring happiness?
Buy Link for "Purrfect Voyage" http://www.turquoisemorningpress.com/2009/02/purrfect-voyage-by-ruth-j-hartman.html (e-book)