Ass Over Tea Kettle

Any day that starts with a tea kettle frozen to the top step outside the door is bound to be interesting, especially if there is no way to open the door. Today was one of those days.
HOW did the tea kettle come to be frozen, you ask? Because, among other things on his “honey do” list yesterday (like call in “frozen” to work), my husband did me favor and gave the chickens their morning water. He then set the tea kettle down outside the kitchen door and walked to our neighbor’s house to borrow a blow torch.
Yes, I did say blow torch.
See, in addition to our washing machine seizing up, our pipes were frozen in the living room (3 problems.) Most people would consider using a blow dryer on the pipes, but I don’t use such modern appliances such as cell phones and blow dryers.
It was a Manic Monday. It was 20 degrees below zero, so we had a two-hour school delay because children couldn’t be outside. Bus drivers needed the heat of the sun to start buses. Teachers couldn’t warm their brains enough to teach reading and writing and arithmetic. Car batteries struggled to turn over. My iPod couldn’t register any sign of life until I brought it inside for an hour.
And we have chickens? I can’t imagine being a chicken right now. How do they stay warm? It must be intolerable. You’re probably thinking “They’re animals”, right? They have adapted to the cold with glycerin in their feet and their thick downy feathers. Well, that may be true but they aren’t laying eggs right now. They are free-loading, but I can’t say I blame them. There just isn’t enough light in the course of a day for a chicken to consider the urge to drop an egg.
The appliance man who came to fix the washing machine told me that when his chickens stop laying eggs, his family eats more chicken soup. I don’t have the heart to kill them because they don’t lay eggs in the winter. It’s not their fault it’s wintertime.
Though not a chicken, I am an animal too. I’ll prove it. As soon as I realized I couldn’t open the kitchen door this morning, I think I may have growled… at my husband in an animal-like fashion.
It sounded something like this: (when you read the following, please make sure to sound angry)
“When you give the chickens water, please make sure to put the tea kettle back on the stove! I got stuck to the step. I can’t open the door.” Now you’re thinking I should be grateful that he did me a favor the day before, and I should focus on what is right and not wrong… preserve my relationship… but I couldn’t OPEN THE DOOR TO GET OUT.
I tried to reach my hand out the door far enough to pull on the handle. I wasn’t strong enough. I tried to pour hot water onto the step and then pull on the handle. I still wasn’t strong enough. I finally decided to go out the OTHER door with a pot of water and go AROUND the house to the chickens. I figured I could kick the tea kettle off the step on my way back inside after I gave them water. I was in a huge hurry because mornings are rushed with packing lunches, getting kids dressed, breakfast, chickens, and of course there’s the added stress of opening the mud room door that gets stuck in the winter because of the frost heave that forms under the deck. I had to put the pot of water down and yank on the door handle with all my might to open that door to get out. Claustrophobia anyone?
So there I was stomping (like a brat) out the other door with a pot of hot water, but I quite didn’t make it as far as the chicken house. There was a bit of ice coating the stairs (that were already covered with snow), so of course I fell (ass over pot of water in this case.) A string of profanity flew from my mouth that probably woke up the neighborhood, or at least my neighbor who was scraping his windshield.
“Son of a %#NFKGHD&SUSFKF!@*(&&^55sdfhiugivbjbgg*&&%#%#%9082327!”
The pot flew into the air and the water landed on me. I couldn’t believe the water didn’t freeze in mid-air and smack me on the head like I had seen it do on the internet.
I stood up and shook like a hosed-down dog and stomped to the door with the pot in my hand. I pushed my way through the frost heave and slammed the door (so it would stay shut of course.)
Now the expression on my husband’s face was priceless. He wanted to laugh, but couldn’t. He needed to figure out how to respond without laughing because he knew I was not in the mood… and of course there wouldn’t be time to stop and laugh in the morning. I’m sure you have gathered our mornings are rushed.
“Are you okay?”
“No. I fell down the #$*&^$^$$&^% stairs. I’m taking a shower.”
“How ‘bout I take care of the chickens this morning?”
Good answer. “That would be great.” Water and fury dripped from my lips, “When you’re on your way back in, could you please get the tea pot from the back steps?”
My kids probably didn’t notice the incident, but after my shower, I paid them both 50 cents because I swore (twice, 25 cents per swear), and apologized for my animal-like behavior. They didn’t care. In fact, Desmond went to school and shared the story with his class during sharing time. By mid-morning his teacher asked me if I was okay since I had fallen down the stairs.
When I took the car to the shop in town to get the oil changed that day, I was convinced that Mike (the mechanic- yeah- I know “Mike and the Mechanics”) would ask me if I was okay after falling down the stairs. I’m sure he knew. Like I said, my neighbor saw me when he was scraping his windshield.
As the day progressed, I became able to laugh and see the humor in what had happened. I fell “on my ass over the tea kettle” and how many people can claim that? My husband and I exchanged laughs about it via email and later on that night we sat down to dinner.
We always say what we are grateful for before we start to eat. We hold hands and take turns and say what we are happy to have in our lives. When my oldest son shared, he said his token “I’m glad we’re not slaves,” AND he said, “I’m glad my parents are not split up.”
Full stop. Think about that.
He’s right. He should be grateful his parents are not split up because there are only three sets of parents in his class who are still married. It is something to be grateful for.
So now it’s time for what I’m grateful for. I am grateful to be married. I’m grateful my husband helps around the house – inside and out-. And believe it or not, I am grateful that I live where it’s cold, because if you want to preserve something you always should put it in the freezer.

In the Middle of Somewhere

• Author’s note: Please know that the names of everyone (except my husband Nick) have been changed to protect the innocent and humble.

We like it this way… in the middle of nowhere. We can see the stars at night (when it’s not raining or snowing.) We can say “hi” to EVERYONE (I do mean everyone) in the local grocery store. We can call the store and ask the clerk to add a red onion to our husband’s cart as he passes through the line (who needs a cell phone bill?) We wave when we pass each other on the road, AND… the biggest and best part about living where we do is that we stop to help each other if we are in need. Here’s a great example.
A week ago, Nick got a flat tire on his way to work at about 8:30 in the morning along Route 100. Route 100 is our biggest road with on lane flowing north and one lane flowing south. Now, a flat tire is rarely timed well, but Nick says this one was particularly badly timed because the temperature was cold, his shoulder hurt, and the roads were snowy and slick.
He got out of the car to grab the donut (and not one with frosting on it from Dunkin.) Just as he was about to change the tire and push on with the day, a man named Keith (*not his real name), stopped to offer help. Our connection to Keith is that he has a daughter in my kindergarten, and he was just coming from depositing her at school for the day.
Never one to refuse help, Nick agreed to the offer. Now he had help and good company and good conversation. A bad situation suddenly turned better.
They changed the tire and Nick was about to head off to work. But Keith offered to take my husband’s car to the shop for him. He switched cars with my husband so that Nick could take the car to work(about ½ hour north on Route 100.) Nick was on his way to work feeling grateful. The offer from Keith was generous and far above and beyond what any person should do.
If you can imagine, it gets better.
My husband called to tell me the story mid-morning. “Did you hear?” He asked. It is a small town, so I probably should have already heard. Most of the town probably knew Nick had a flat tire before he did.
Keith and his wife stopped by school to have lunch with their daughter. I expressed my complete gratitude as soon as I saw them, but they were very humble about it. “It’s what people should do for each other.” Keith said. “His car is done. Now, where does he work? We’d like to bring his car back to him.”
If you can imagine, it gets better.
They drove the car to Small Dog Electronics http://www.smalldog.com/
and presented my husband with the car. They would not accept any gas money from my husband or money to pay for the snow tire that had replaced the flat! Just flat out refused (please don’t mind the pun.)
Just knowing that we live in a town where people help each other is a beautiful thing. But what do you say to people who are like this? Is thank you enough? Do you mail them an anonymous card with money in it? Would that be enough?
I don’t know the answer to that. I just try to remember the deed and realize that people are naturally good inside and that they want to help whenever they can. I am sharing the story, so that you too can feel good too. Though evil exists, so does goodness. The goodness outweighs the evil. Almost erases it.
And I will try to never forget the good deed, with a “pay it forward” attitude. Perhaps I will have a chance to help someone some day. I will stop and help (unless it’s changing a tire because I don’t think I can remember how to do that.)
Nick wrote a thank-you note two days ago.
The same day I gave them the note, Keith was backing out of his driveway, and his car slipped and got stuck on a log in a ditch. The injustice! Some people believe that no good deed goes unpunished. I still don’t believe that. The glass is half-full. It has to be. It’ll work out. Keith is a good person. Everything happens for a reason.
He and his family live on a dead-end dirt road, so NO ONE would be driving by to help him. As soon as I heard about the situation from his wife, I told her that she could use our AAA towing option to get the car out of the ditch. Hooray! I can help!
Maybe it would help, but I wonder sometimes about our AAA. Around here, there is only one shop that will send a truck out for AAA towing, and it’s located in Rutland, which is almost an hour’s drive. We have had AAA come to us and it can sometimes take up to 3 hours before they arrive. But it’s paid for. And they can get cars out of ditches! It’s always the same AAA driver. Maybe he’s the low guy on the pole, so they send him to the “Heart of the Green Mountains.” I don’t think he’s awesome at the job, but he tries. He broke a hole in our bumper once and had to pay us cash to get it fixed. He towed our van and slipped into a ditch last winter and they had to send a tow truck for the tow truck. Each time I see this AAA guy, I can tell he is nervous about coming here. He even told me once that his GPS doesn’t work and he always gets lost around here.
Despite all of the woes of AAA, Keith’s wife seemed grateful for the offer because they had tried a small pick-up and a chain and nothing was working. I reminded her to call us for help later if they needed AAA. She said that she would. I silently hoped that the AAA guy would pull through and do a good job this time. I also hoped he wouldn’t get lost.
They never called… but…
if you can imagine, it gets better.
Keith’s wife came to school yesterday morning smiling sweetly as always. I asked her about their car and if everything was taken care of.
“It’s a great story.” She answered.
So, here it is. She went home two days ago and told Keith about our AAA offer. They were standing outside in their driveway on their dead-end road. She had barely finished her sentence about us offering AAA when they heard a rumbling noise on the road.
It was AAA.
On a dead-end road.
On the way another call.
Keith waved the truck down, and the car was pulled out of the ditch.
Now, do you believe that? I think it’s great. They live on a dead-end road and the AAA truck driver was LOST! The GPS doesn’t work. Do you think it’s the same AAA driver? I do. It’s Vermont. It’s just how it is here.
We like it this way… in the middle of nowhere. We can see the stars at night (when it’s not raining or snowing.) We love our local grocer. We wave when we pass each other on the road, AND… the biggest and best part about living where we do is that we stop to help each other if we are in need.
But I’m not calling it “the middle of nowhere” anymore. I’m calling it “the middle of somewhere.” Because it is. Vermont’s special, and we know it. We know it well. It’s good here.