A MOVE: I moved a bunch of stuff yesterday. Today, it took me six trips to get finished. My bed is covered with stuff, but you know good and well my computer is set up! We are officially back “down the bayou”. And Camp Dularge is going up eight feet in the next week. Posts with photos forthcoming. Meanwhile . . . . .
Today the gas company came down and removed the gas meter at Camp Dularge in preparation for the elevation. It wasn’t a big deal really, and the young man was very pleasant.
After Termite and I made our last load down to the old house, I went to take the towels out of the dryer and to put the wet clothes in. Well, the towels were still damp and I thought, “Man, these towels were on for 45 minutes. This new dryer isn’t doing a very good job.” So, I put them on HIGH for another 15 minutes.
I was about to hop in the truck to go lock up Camp Dularge, when I noticed something really strange in the yard. Or should I say, I noticed something “missing” in the yard. What do you think it was?
That’s right. You guessed it. The gas meter. It was gone. And I mean GONE!
Here it was 3:30 in the afternoon (you know they knock off at 4), and I still had to cook supper, dry clothes, and we all had to bathe.
(Right here a photo of the naked gas pipes would have been perfect, but I was too flabbergasted to even think of taking a photo.)
I was quite agitated about this fact because I was all set to install a new gas pipe and shut-off valve for the new range so I could cook on it tonight.
Not only would I not cook on it tonight, but we would have no hot water, and the towels were still not dry.
You know I immediately called the gas office, and by the pitch of my voice the lady on the other end knew she better pass me off to management and QUICK!
An hour later a different technician came down, reinstalled a gas meter and listened to my lecture that I made him swear he would deliver verbatim to the guy who took my meter by mistake. The gist of the lecture was how inconvenient it would be not to be able to cook or bathe or dry clothes. But most of all, it’s sometimes very hard to get the water heater lit–some women don’t know how to light a water heater–that’s why they have husbands, right?
Even though they are not supposed to, he insisted on lighting the water heater for me (thinking me incapable, I guess) but I was more than happy to let him do it. Doing so somehow made him feel better about the inconvenience the “new guy” had caused me.
I still don’t know how this mixup happened. I did not sign a work order asking them to remove my residential meter–just the one at Camp Dularge.
All’s well that ends well–the towels are now drying, and we have hot water. We ate sandwiches, but I will install the stove tomorrow and post pics!!!
Ain’t she a beauty?
A CHRISTMAS PAST: To be continued . . .