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.
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