Friday, February 13, 2009

Hot Water

Main man discovered rather quickly this morning that our hot water heater had gone out.  Fortunately for him, we have two water heaters and he traipsed, towel and shampoo in hand, to the other end of the house.  As it was raining torrents outside, I began thinking (I was under the warm blankets at the time) how would I be living in if I had to build my own house.

First off, it wouldn't be a house, it would be a lean-to.  It wouldn't have a bed with warm blankets in it.  It wouldn't have a hot water.  In short, I would be in dire striates.  

What would I have to eat for breakfast?  What would I HAVE to do today.  Kill and pluck a chicken?  Only if I had raised a chicken!

I know how to split wood.  I have washed my hair in a freezing cold stream.  I have balanced myself over a foreboding black hole in an out house.  I even know how to grind wheat to make bread.  But I haven't chopped down a tree to get the wood, made the soap to wash my hair, dug a hole for the latrine, or grown and harvested the wheat.  

Today I will move around in a warm, weather-tight house, put dirty dishes into a dishwasher, get ice from the fridge, vacuum the floor, and use my computer to learn about anything I want to learn.  

Usually I would go about the day without thinking about what I really have.  But today I resolve to look around me and be grateful.

(Maybe I ought to look up how to pluck a chicken!)


3 comments:

  1. I pluck a chicken every time I get into Sam's wallet.

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  2. You make me laugh Mom ... you too Aunt Laura. I don't even think I'd have a lean to. I'd be out in the elements (if we were on our own, if I get my husband, I think I'd be more than fine).

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  3. Let's see if I remember. . .first you catch the chicken out in the yard. Then you chop it's head off, then you catch the flopping chicken. Ok, now it's dead, so dunk it in boiling water, pluck off the feathers, then pluck out the pin feathers (hard to pull out) then viserate the chicken (meaning? pull out its guts). Then wash it out well and cut the chicken into pieces. Fun, huh?
    I remember how thrilled Mother was when there was a store where we could buy an eviserated chicken. Of course, we had to cut it up to cook with it.
    Life is good now, isn't it?

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