Sunday, 27 October 2013

Home Sick Wet Dark

We both are very sick. Outside it rains and rains.

The electricity kept going out, so we called Tino the Electrician. He says it´s the fancy induction cooktop doing it, it is broken. So we stopped using it, and ordered another one, a different brand this time.

Meantime, the lights went out again. Out in the back yard I saw water coming up from under a little junction box where the wiring for Paddy´s studio is hidden in the ground. Obviously that is what´s grounding out the power, that is why the lights go out when it rains hard. I shut off the circuit at the main, so now there´s no light in the studio and no power for the chainsaw. I opened up the junction box and sucked out the water with a turkey baster, and contemplated the delightful cautionary tale:

Lord Finchley tried to mend the Electric Light
Himself. It struck him dead: And serve him right!
It is the business of the wealthy man
To give employment to the artisan.
-- Hillaire Belloc

OK, I will leave the electricity to the electrician! Still...
Maybe, if this is the problem, this means we don´t need a new cooktop.
Maybe our back yard is an electrocution hazard.
Maybe someday it will stop raining, and the electrician will come back to install the new stove, and he will find out the bozo who installed that junction box did it all wrong and the problem will be solved and neither we nor our hens will electrocute ourselves, and we will not have to pay a month´s wages for the shiny new stovetop.
(I wonder, if a chicken electrocutes itself, is the resulting meat tender or tough, or even edible?)
  
I know this all will work out at some point. It always does.

Meantime, we will skip Mass for today, for our good and the good of all the holy Church. We will close the gates and curl up in our (seperate) beds and contemplate the group of pilgs who dined with us on Wednesday, and left us with these gifts: a brutal dose of germs, and two little bottles of Wild Turkey bourbon to medicate ourselves with.   

Pity the pilgrim who travels with this germ. Imagine being far from home in damp clothes, your head on fire, joints aching and eyes crying, in a reeking dormitory room of people you are probably infecting.  Poor old pilgs. Pray for them, will you?

And pray for us, too. I am not happy to be ill, but I am very thankful to be home.  

8 comments:

Claire Bangasser said...

Praying for you both and the poor infected pilgrims. Glad you found the cause of your problem.
Hoping you feel better soon!

K Samulis said...

Ouch! Here's to hoping they and you get well soon. So, be thinking of you at Mass in a little bit!

Joni Miller said...

Prayers for you and Paddy, and the electrician to come fix your box! And praying for all the pilgrims as they journey in inclimate weather and nasty germs!

EileenHamer said...

Yeah, let the electrician fix it. Reb, water's a conductor of electricity.Scared me silly to think of you and that turkey baster, no doubt standing on wet ground, etc. Yikes. One way to cure the flu, but not recommended.

Be safe and warm and tell your white cells to get with the program. the little buggers are skiving off again and it's time they got back to work.

Christine Adams said...

Lordy, I have been that pilgrim, and I stepped off the trail and curled up with fantastic Spanish cold medicine. Hope they had the luxury of doing the same. And I hope they found some understanding hospitalero. I've gotten sick on each camino, not surprising given the world of people in close quarters. The first time, I got no sympathy from cranky monks and ended up in a hotel in Burgos for a couple of days. Last time in a private hostal, I got a private room (the hospitalero, like me, didn't want to make anyone else sick). Bless him. I slept for three days straight, missing Easter while I was at it. At least there was electricity! Hope you have someone there to throw another log on the fire for you.

Rebrites@yahoo.com said...

UPDATE: Patrick and I went to see the doctor today. We are both on antibiotics, and are on the mend. Tino the Electrician will be here tomorrow, and hopefully will end the story on a happy note.

Meantime, petition your favorite diety for Perla, Pilar´s little dog. She went missing yesterday out in the Promised Land. Pilar needs that little dog, it is her companion in the long days caring for her Alzheimer-stricken husband...

Anonymous said...

Perhaps she might like little (?) Ruby....

but I'll send a good word for her dog....and you two...

Love, k

Thomas said...

On Saturday 26th you really didn't look well, but offered me so much of just a few words exchanged.

Thomas, the French/Irish cyclist who popped in