We’ve been seeing on the news that much of the east coast (including the part of Massachusetts where our little farmhouse is located) has been experiencing the worst cold spell in about a hundred years. We offered advice to our tenants about how to keep the pipes from freezing, and hoped for the best.
Early Monday morning they called to tell us that the furnace had stopped working, and they were headed to a hotel. We hustled and arranged for a furnace fix. The next morning brought news of burst pipes and flooding, and the furnace going out again. I’ll spare you a lengthy catalog of woes. El Guapo left on a red-eye flight late last night, while I’ve been working on logistics from a distance, arranging for a place for him to stay (Thanks, Jeff and Tammy!) and for someone to pick him up from the train station (Much appreciated, Ruth!). I’ve been scoping out space heater loans (hat tip, Alisha, for your willingness) and hearing from potential helpers.
While there’s a limit to what I’ve been able to accomplish at this remove, my ability to ruminate in the wee hours of the morning was quite sufficient to start me brooding at 4 am. So we’ll say that preoccupation with sodden ceilings, sopping carpets and soaked everything means that this space is temporarily closed due to flooding. I hope to have something less wet to write about for our regularly scheduled Saturday post. In the meantime, we welcome all positive energy that you might want to send in the direction of our wet little house.
[Images: Kaplanlawyers.com, dailymail.co.uk]