Labor Day weekend–finished. How was yours? I can tell you how mine was in one word.
H! O! T!
Right, I know that everyone in Okieland had the same temp (about) but we have specially trained everything in our lives– our appliances, our vehicles, even ourselves–that if something is going to go wrong, it’s gotta be on a weekend. Preferably a long weekend.
We should have been prepared. We should have known with LD coming, something would gilflirt.
(BTW: Gilflirt is a technical word meaning to stop working.)
So since this was the last weekend of “true” summer (at least on the calendar) our air conditioner decided to go on the fritz. And it did a magnificent job of fritzing.
It gave us no warning, not even a death rattle. It just stopped.
Now I truly love our air conditioner guys. I’ve known the HGIC (head guy in charge for those of you who don’t get the lingo) since we were little kids.
The thing is, they’re good. They’re really good. Everybody (nearly) uses them. Which means it takes FOREVER for them to get to my house and fix the ‘ditioner.
I even tried the old, “My husband has heart problems and can’t sleep in the heat,” whine to no avail.
So we hauled a mattress downstairs so we wouldn’t have to fight over the couch. (Family room now looks like a dorm room. And no, that doesn’t make me feel 18 again.)
BTW: Did you know that even if you sleep on a mattress, if you’re sleeping on a hardwood floor, it’s still hard? A couple of mornings of stiff backs had us dragging the box springs down to go under it.
I’m not sure it’s much softer, but we don’t have as far to stand up when we awake in the a.m.
But I still go upstairs to put on my makeup and get dressed in the heat. (Note to Walking Buddy: The stripes you noticed in my makeup was not a fashion statement. It was where sweat ran down.)
But at least I got something done this weekend. I power-washed my front porch and chased away all the web makers. (By the time I was finished I looked like I’d been swimming.)
The spidys decorated for Halloween way too early. I noticed an eight legged interloper out there yesterday on the way in from work, so I’ll be going out again, this time armed with a can of ant spray.
Spiders hate ant spray.
And before someone reminds me how wonderful spiders are (shiver) because they eat bugs and their webs are miracles of creation, I’ll tell you: The spiders who’ve taken over my deck are healthy, happy and incredibly fat. (We have a ton of bugs here near the lake.)
So . . . how much fun was your LD Weekend?
Care to share?