Winter Charm

I had been house sitting for about 10 days or so, and since I was only five miles away, I decided to do chores at my house, and then run into town to meet Casey, his dad, and stepmom.  Now, it has been cold.  Colder than cold, actually.  Cold to the point when you walk out and it's 20 degrees you think to yourself: Wow, what a nice, nice day!  Okay...maybe not everyone will agree with me on that, but when you spend a significant portion of the day outside, and you're now acclimated to single digit temperatures, 20 degrees is awesome. 

Well, I went inside, still had my coat on, and was ready to let Sam out.  I had just bought him a winter coat (his skin and coat are very thin and he shivers constantly outside in this weather), and I couldn't wait to try it on him.  When I walked to his kennel, I knelt down and saw Sam shivering inside.  "Huh. That's weird," I thought to myself.  "What's the matter, Sam?" I asked.  He answered by snorting...maybe that's the Boxer breed?  Not sure.  He makes a lot of unidentifiable sounds...

I went ahead and let him out and and thought, "Wow, it really is chilly in here,"  So I moseyed on over to the thermostat.  "Perhaps," I thought, "Casey may have accidentally knocked it down a ways,"  It was set for 68.  And the temperature read 56 degrees. 

So, I decided to call Casey.  I explained the situation and he asked me to go out and check the propane tank, which was extremely disappointing because we had recently received significant snowfall, and I had my cute shoes on, which meant I would have to take them off.  This isn't as simple as it sounds...taking cute shoes off when you're wearing a cute coat and all bundled up means you have to take your coat off so you can get your arms close enough together to get your shoes off, then heave my boots on, and finally trudge out in the snow an entire 50 feet.  In the snow.  Not very far, I know.  But I was cold, tired from doing chores all day, and not in the mood for this.  But, you do what you have to, I suppose. Keeping Casey on the phone, I trudged out to the propane tank and after what seemed like 10 minutes of walking, I reached the propane tank. "Okay, I'm at the propane tank," I informed.

"Okay, go ahead and check it." 

Now, I have seen many propane tanks, walked by them, watched other people fill them, etc., but I have never checked a propane tank to see how full (or in this particular case, empty) it is or isn't.  I stood there, looking at the silvery submarine looking thing and said, "Okay...How do I check to see how much is in there?"

Without laughing at my severe lack of expertise in this area (which is why I'll keep him), he said, "Do you see the brown cap on top?"

"Yeah..." I said, wishing this was over and that I could go inside to my...cold house. 

"Lift up the lid and tell me what it reads," he instructed.

I'm not sure if it was pure denial, or holding out hope that as I flicked the gauge the needle would move and show me that it had propane.  A few moments of holding out hope and then my hope was suddenly interrupted by Casey saying, "What does it say???" 

It does not take a rocket scientist to conclude that one may be out of propane, but I said it anyway: "It is pointing to zero.  I'm guessing that means we don't have any..."  

"I cannot believe we would be out of propane already!" he exclaimed.

"Well...it looks as though we are," I replied.

"Okay, call Heartland and see if they can come out," he instructed.

"They are closed now, aren't they?" Did I also mention that this was Christmas Eve??? Probably not. 

"They have an emergency number," he said.

"Oh, okay," I replied.

So, long story short, I called the emergency number, dreading it because some poor soul had to come all the way out to our house to refill our propane tank.  Not only was this humiliating, I felt terrible.  My timing on things is almost always the worst possible moment.  I don't know how it happens, but it does. 

Meanwhile, back inside, Sam, wearing his new winter coat feeling so cool (Casey's dad said he looked like Batman...and he kind-of does), Guinness, and I sat together, huddled on the couch for body heat.  Thinking that this could be a cute picture for the blog, I snapped a few photos of the three of us, shivering, huddled on the couch in blankets, keeping warm.  As I reviewed my latest photograph, Guinness made a couple hacking noises, and just as I was opening my mouth to ask what was wrong, he puked all over the carpet. 

So, when I think of winter...sugar plum fairies, hot cocoa and marshmallows, and horses pulling sleighs with lovely bells do not run through my mind.  What runs through my mind are things like fixing electric fences in sub-zero weather, pulling a wheelbarrow full of manure through the snow, slipping and falling (more than usual), frozen pipes, and now, an empty propane tank, and sitting on the couch next to Sam in his winter coat, and me, holding a sick Guinness while he performs his Academy Award winning version of what looks looks like a scene from The Exorcist...And that, my friends, is what I like to call, Winter Charm.