No hot water? What is this?
It’s too early for Daughter Darling to have used up the hot water. Okay, check fuses. Husband Dear says they’re okay. We shower in the bathroom off the garage, a second water heater serves that. Warm shower, whew. Husband Darling said his shower was getting cool by the time he got out. What is going on?
Husband resets the first water heater. The pilot was out. No tearing apart the water heater only to discover that a fuse was fried as my father once did. Hot water heater number one is running fine, except by now number two produces only cold water…How bizarre. Two water heaters turned belly-up all in one day. Conclusion, apparently the Propane delivery man delivered some bubbles along with the liquid gas. The water heaters are resuscitated.
Daughter Darling begins Sunday with vigor. She plans to film Husband Dear’s current work project. Alas, the camera and the editing program won’t speak to each other. She has apoplexy.
We planned to watch the Academy Awards show this evening, carry-in pizza and the Oscars is a family tradition. We do not, however, have television reception, our choice, we never hooked up. We thought we could watch on the internet. Wrong. I spend ten million hours trying to find a site that delivers what they advertise, “Watch the Oscars live.” They lie. I even sign up. I pay. I get Afghanistan stations. That sucks.
Free sites will show the red-carpet arrivals, it will show behind the scenes, and the Governor’s ball, but will not show the actual awards ceremony.
Wait! We have roof-top antennae that we have never tried. We hook up the TV cable and Husband Dear crawls onto the roof. This is reminiscent of the 50’s when my Dad was adjusting our antennae on the hill behind our house in the Columbia River George of Oregon. I signaled by flashlight—rotate left, turn right, too far. There, you’ve got it. We were able to see a show if we held our breath and squinted through a snow storm. Here in the 2012 Daughter Darling signals not with a flashlight, but uses a cell-phone. (See we do have some technology that works.) Husband Dear did get an ABC station—except the screen is a whited-out snow storm, and a Spanish interpreter speaks over the top of the English dialogue. The din of the two languages scrambled together is enough to send already fried nerves over the edge. We give up.
I did see that Meryl Streep won for best actress. Now who could beat the performance she gave in Iron Lady? Nobody I’d say.
Less you think we are primitive beyond measure, we do watch some TV shows using Netflick. We just watched Glee, the Concert, and wow, I didn’t believe any person could rival Barbra Streisand’s “Don’t Rain on My Parade,” but Lea Michelle, who plays Rachael on the weekly show Glee, belted out that song with such vigor I almost fell off the couch. Glee, the show, losers they call themselves (far from it), misfits, freaks, the under-dog. People identify. Kids are claiming their uniqueness. People do like positive programing. I knew it!
Monday: We believe the camera problem is solved. All’s well.
