Guess whose air conditioner isn't working. Oh, that's right. I kind of gave it away in the title. Because I KNOW you didn't think I was calling Farmer H hot, as in a sexy beast. Though technically, that phrase may be half right.
I don't know what the deal is. Everything was just fine all day Thursday. As far as I knew. The thermostat was set on 74. The temperature on it read 74. I went to town and did my business. Came back. It was still 74, though 89 outside.
Next thing you know, Farmer H is back from the doctor and Goodwill, sitting in his recliner, when I ascend the stairs at 7:30.
"Whew! It's HOT up here!"
"Oh, you always say that, but you run a HEATER downstairs!"
"Well...it's chilly in the basement, and that heater is for my knees! It's really hot up here, though." I looked at the thermostat. "Why is it 77 degrees in here?"
"Huh...77? I didn't do anything to it!"
"Well, that's what is says, and it seems really hot. I guess it's broken AGAIN! I'm tired of paying two or three hundred dollars every other month for them to come out and fiddle with it! Tell them we shouldn't have to pay if they're not really fixing it, or get somebody else to do it. Good luck now, because it's going to be 95 degrees tomorrow. And we won't have AIR CONDITIONING!"
"I'll call somebody else and see if I can get them out here. I'll open up the windows tonight..."
"Good. So I can breathe whatever makes my nose run while I'm out walking."
"There's nothing we can do right now. But DON'T RUN YOUR HEATER and heat up the house!"
Uh huh. Because it's MY fault we're sweltering.
Sweet Gummi Mary! If everybody turned off their job skills when they came home, my kids would be simpletons, the cobbler's kids would run around barefoot, the ROCKERS' kids would be romping on lush landscaped grass, the gas station chicken store owners' kids would be eating hummus, and the Diet Coke truck driver's kids would be drinking KoolAid.
Farmer H hobbled out back to take a look at the unit, and pronounced it "Not running." He had no idea why, because, he said, he didn't have a meter. For someone who takes things apart and puts them back together all day, and invents parts to make machines run...I kind of expected more from him.
HM--Well, if he erected an AC shack in Shackytown, he'd know how to fix that AC.
ReplyDeleteMaybe you should suggest that...
god idea, Sioux!!
ReplyDeleteSioux,
ReplyDeleteI don't think it's such a matter of not KNOWING HOW as it is of not WANTING TO. But I'm sure an AC SHACK would be quite the incentive. I'll inform Farmer H that he can start building it just as soon as your funding comes through. UNLESS you want him to pay you back for your contribution by fixing things around YOUR house first...
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fishducky,
I swear that you and Madam are in cahoots! Don't think that the #1 Son doesn't have the wherewithal, working at Garmin, to track down YOUR address, so you can benefit from Farmer H's Handyman Services as well!
I completely understand.
ReplyDeleteKathy,
ReplyDeleteI'm sure I had you at "He Who" in the title!