I'm a newly retired middle school teacher, which means I most likely need some kind of psychological evaluation. Instead, my DH brought me the cutest little guy ever!! He is teaching me to relax. Slow down. Smell the tree stumps.
His mom is a stray Chihuahua. Dad was a love 'em and leave 'em type. We're thinking he was some sort of terrier. Rudy weighed in at 2.7 pounds our first vet visit, and I'm hoping he stays little. He's brilliant, of course, as are both my children and all of my grandchildren.
Yes. I'm late. We've been preoccupied, as often happens here in the country. It is kind of a good news/bad news situation, but hopefully all has been taken care of.
I wish I had a picture to show you how we spent New Year's Day. But alas. Again, we were preoccupied, despite the fact that Cuddle Buns remarked to Rudy at one point: "This is so going on your blog."
I was hoping to sleep in on New Year's Day. I made it all the way to 8pm when the ADT alarm started sounding at the same time the phone started ringing. (Cuddle Buns, deep into his new car racing video game, was in the living room and heard none of this.) The nice lady on the ADT end of the phone informed me that carbon monoxide had been detected in our home and that we needed to vacate.
I grabbed my phone, iPad, knitting, and finally convinced Cuddle Buns that this was not a drill and that he needed to grab Rudy. (I promise, if Cuddle Buns had not been there, Rudy would have been grabbed first.)
By the time we got to Cuddle Bun's shed (workshop, Man Cave, Pub…it has had many names) the phone was ringing again. The emergency dispatch was calling to make sure we were out of the house and to inform us paramedics were on the way. She then asked how they would find us and seemed a little worried when I told her we were in the shed. I assured her it was heated. (Our January 1st was cold and rainy.)
We were checked. My blood pressure was actually better than Cuddle Bun's, though I was informed by one of the EMTs that it wasn't a competition.
Dispatch called again. We were to call the fire chief. Seems they don't have equipment to come check for carbon monoxide. We were told to open the windows and call someone to check our heater.
Did I mention it was cold and rainy. And January First, when no one ANYWHERE was available to check a heater?
We moved our sleeping arrangements into the quest bedroom, which is more insulated and easier to heat via a space heater. I've assured everyone that we were fine. And we were. The house is snug, even though it was cold out. But not the coldest, which came soon enough!
So, Friday the Second we got the heater checked out. Yep. The Culprit. Spewer of bad things to breathe.
Now, given that many things in this house were rigged by previous homeowners, I can't help but wonder how much of the propane conversion was done correctly, or the exhaust, or the installation BUT the thing had to go.
So, after trying to tap dance with the holder of our home owner warranty (won't do that again), we had this new beauty installed on Wednesday.
Just in time for the polar blast that dropped temps that night into the teens. Last night, too.
So. I'm so thankful we had an alarm to warn us. And thankful for space heaters, and our guys who came to check out The Culprit. And HEAT.