Hocked Dreams

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Mission Bay on a chilly winter noon.

Madison WI is ten below.  Here it’s only 47 degrees.  We shouldn’t complain, but the brand new heater that’s spoiled us so wonderfully since it’s installation is blowing cold, air-conditioned, air out into the rooms for the second time.  We are not impressed.  Spoiled, that’s us.

After a weekend of cleaning up after the holiday, the neighbor girl, and running errands, George grew cranky and I grew stubborn.  Like two children, we were. 

Mid-morning on Sunday we received a text telling us to come get the meeting BBQ.  Our Friday night meeting has one BBQ a month after the meeting during the summer.  This was an errand we were both grateful to run.  Each AA meeting is run by volunteers in the various positions such as secretary, or treasurer.  George has been a treasurer for the last two years.  He moved into the job of BBQ Master.  But we couldn’t get the BBQ.  The guy in charge had gone out first on drugs then on alcohol.  He didn’t return G’s calls.

"Pick it up at my Ex-girlfriends house at noon," the message told us a week after we began the search.  We were a little early, but we found it safe and sound in her back yard under a blue tarp.  He could have sold it.  He could have hocked it.  We were very grateful he didn’t. 

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The garage door will be apallingly expensive....a second time.  I've suggested that we install a security camera.

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The repairman came and fixed the heater a third time.  The time delay switch on the external condenser had been miss-set.  At least this one is under warranty.

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Keeping those on the east coast in my thoughts.

Himself:  Work.

Herself:  Two fillings.

Reading:  Mysteries.

Balance:  The Chargers won and are still in the playoffs.