I went to drop it off and was being picked up by Maddie in the Sequoia -- which has a broken back window. Peter put it down (it is electric) because he had gas tanks in the back and didn't want to die. I get that. I just don't understand why he didn't take the pickup truck.
Anyways, I told the guy at the garage that I also needed that fixed. We decided that was more important than the Jeep. I feel like I spend a lot of time at this garage! You know it's not a good sign when you walk in, they know your name and your car.
Then we have been having problems with the electricity in the house -- it keeps blinking. Or going off altogether. Surging, stopping. The guy came to check it out and he is pretty confident that it is the buried line between the house and the pole. He said that that wouldn't be "their problem," but ours. Of course.
So when these things start to happen in great clumps, it is not coincidental. It is something that I am doing. Clogged energy perhaps? Combined with all the issues at the cottage, it is a bit overwhelming. I spent hours searching for an affordable stove yesterday -- not really one to be had. It is a large stove, 36 inches, so I think now it is time to consider a smaller one. Or just let someone else deal with it. I still have to schleppe my vacuum cleaner over there to get rid of the blonde dog hair that is covering the furniture and floor over there. (I only bring my black haired dog, for the record.) But before I do that I should vacuum up the sea of black dog hair floating around here. Gross.
I asked the kids to clean up the kitchen. You know, the kitchen that I left clean. That started a fight, because Charlie really doesn't like to do ANYTHING that you ask him to do. If he happens to do something because he feels like it, then great. But asking him is just putting a match to a fuse. He goes off and his favorite saying is that we are the worst family in the world. That is my particular favorite. And a lovely way to start a day.
But I hang tough -- because I am NOT going to clean up after the little slob. Especially him. There is a place in the living room where he sits, and the carpet underneath where his feet go is disgusting. So a day spent at home is about yelling and fighting and threatening and hating.
Was I mentioning something about clogged energy? Gee, weird, I know.
I am off to my garden to bring in some lettuces for my juice.
That is a good thing!
UPDATE: So the garage just called and it will cost $350 to replace the part for the back window. I asked if they could just keep it up -- we don't care if it goes up and down. Well no, it's all one part and it is all rusted out and the clips that hold the window are rusted and not replacing it could mean the window might fall out if you go over a big bump. Oye. So much money for something we won't even use. Makes no sense. And Peter is going to be mad that I said yes to having it fixed ... (which is why I gave up fixing the cars years ago, but the job has been returned to me, and I am having the argument we will have later in my head right now!) I will try NOT to point out that HE broke the damn window. Really, I will.
But I do believe that it is rusted because I saw with my own eyes the mess it was when Peter tried to fix the window himself. It seems as though a car manufacturer would be able to come up with a design that keeps water OUT of getting inside a door. Or are cars designed exactly so that they will rust so that you will buy new ones?
No comments:
Post a Comment