Posted 3/31/2009 4:32 PM (GMT 0)
Yesterday, I Fibromite moved a twenty foot Selkirk Chimney, during a snowstorm, with my little Jeep. Sometimes when we make up our minds something has to be done, we just do it. That's when I last thought I was going to have multiple heart attacks. The chimney, all aluminum, with a fibreglass liner, was in two long, like eight ft. pieces, with two smaller pieces, one to attach to whatever building and another with the cap. The chimney had to be moved before my parents nasty falling down house was demolished by new owner. My son was asleep, I don't like waking people up, I think if they are motivated to do something they'll get up (unless they forget -no reflection on poor soul who continues to beat herself up over making hubby wait), but regarding adult children living rent free, nope, if they mean to help, they'll line up, in time. So here I am fighting with this hugh eight foot chimney, wrestling it into back of Jeep, got it, then the next piece, same but harder since it's getting crowded back there and then two end pieces. Ok. did I forget to mention the Rottweiler that was already in the back seat. Yep, a rotty and a twenty foot chimney, in a snowstorm. Well, ok, so off I goes with them all sticking this way and that, slowly, over the nasty spring potholes to it's final resting place on my little piece of land, near the water. I also have a five hundred pound cast iron stove that goes with it but i think I will leave that for another time, sans Rotweiller. She got really grumpy with me after I dropped the chimney in it's final resting spot and refused to get back in Jeep. Well, she was spoiled rotten all her life and not only does she think she is a person, she thinks she is the boss person. So it's snowing really hard, My hair and eyebrows have icycles hanging off of them, and I am engaged in a battle of wills with a Rotweiler in the middle of the road. I want her inside the truck, so I can go home and get dry. She has other ideas which she refuses to vocalize except to go grrrawl, grrawl, grrawl. Finally my cell phone rings. Son says where are you, I thought we were doing the chimney thing? I says I am parked in the middle of the road, up here by the beach, and grrawl grrawl, grrawl. So, come get her, please. Son says stop yelling. I say It wasn't me yelling, it was the dog. I sit in truck dripping icycles, grrawl grrawl sits next to truck, going, you guessed it, for half an hour while mister mister rent free gets his butt in gear and rescues, The Dog!