As far as Mondays go, this one started off basic enough: chill in the air, snuggly child in my bed that I had to pry myself away from when the very early alarm sounded. Good hair day. Then it went downhill . . .
No creamer for my coffee. Ugh. We went out of town for the weekend and I completely forgot that I used the last of the nondairy goodness on Friday morning. Not the end of the world - I'm a big girl and black coffee will not kill me (gag, choke).
Awful odor coming from my basement.
Off to work.
Really? The check engine light is on and my front blinker just went out yesterday. No matter - I'm due for an oil change anyway so I will just have it looked at.
REWIND:
We spent the weekend in Springfield, Missouri where I attended an anesthesia conference and my wonderful hubby tried to entertain our two children in a hotel room and pool for two days. We returned home from our three hour journey last night, after stopping to pick up our fur babies from boarding, and were greeted by the stench of rotten critter upon entering our home. Clearly, something had made its way into our chimney never to find its way out again. Unfortunate . . . and stinky. Remembering a story of skunk spray odor being absorbed by tomato juice and coffee grounds, I set about placing bowls of coffee around our basement, close to the offensive fireplace stove.
Now it smelled of dead critter + coffee.
Monday morning for Eric (handsome hubby):
Woke to smell of dead critter and coffee and dogs barking. Why so early?!
Ah, dog vomit. Lovely.
Apparently the weekend food change didn't settle well.
Nothing like waking to a Monday morning blend of dead something, coffee and barf.
So, once at work, I googled "chimney" in my area and was happy to find an ad for a company that cleans, restores, repairs, and caps chimneys. They can fit us in. Hooray!
(This is where it starts getting good - hang in there.)
Two men from said company arrive to inspect our chimney flue and agree the odor is coming from within (ya think?) With the stove disconnected and nothing visible through their snakey camera thing from below, they headed outside to the chimney. The old, ineffectual cap was removed and the camera thingy was once again put to work.
Now, let me add that my Dad (thank God!) was present, as well as my mom, since my husband was off coaching volleyball districts. I left the chimney inspection supervision to him and went inside to feed my children snacks and check on other things.
A few minutes later, the kids and dogs follow me out to assess the progress, but find that a yellow jacket nest has been stirred up, causing one gentleman to almost fall from a ladder and the rest to do a neat little dance across the yard. Recognizing the dance as bad news, I simultaneously yelled to the kids to get inside while feeling the first sting on my collar. We ran for the hills while the men took a longer path around the house to the driveway where they continued to swat and slap at themselves.
For those who aren't aware, German yellow jackets (as identified by the exterminator I reached after making nine phone calls after 5pm on a weekday) are very aggressive and "busy." They do not, however, sting with an accent.
The exterminator was necessary to clear the yellow jackets so the chimney dudes could re-cap the chimney, keeping other critters from climbing / falling / flying in.
While we waited for him to arrive, the chimney dudes found the offensive creature back inside the house, stuck between the internal stove and the pipe that led to the chimney.
Unfortunately, to smell that bad, he was not alone. Brace yourself: maggots.
Both chimney dudes gagged and coughed and choked as they took the tiny corpse out to their truck in a miniature body bag. Major disinfecting ensued.
Meanwhile, my mom gets a call that my grandpa's heart started racing during cardiac rehab so she left to meet him at the emergency room (after applying a baking soda pulpus to my dad and my stings and offering everyone Benadryl, of course.)
Don't worry: he is fine.
Thinking this is enough, mentally and financially, for one day, I decided to face the music and got my checkbook. We all met in the driveway for the pay off when who, but three young Mormon missionaries, joined our shin dig.
Really? Now?
I tried to politely explain the mess of a gathering we were having, expecting them to offer to return another time, but I suppose they saw the opportunity to witness to us all and stayed anyway.
By now, my children were starving and getting cranky (as was I, let's be honest) and all of the laughter I had managed to cope with until this point felt close to turning to tears.
Recap: Squirrel, live maggots, yellow jackets' nest . . . it was like a plague here!
You really can't make this stuff up.
I get that this spiritual journey I am on may involve some testing, but really, I think God trusts me too much. This is when Matthew West's Strong Enough really resounds in me.
Thank you for the opportunities to be strong and faithful, Lord. Thank you for the support and love of those around me. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like a break. ;) Oh, and a heavy frost to kill off those things would be great too. Thanks!
On to Tuesday . . . if I can muster the energy.
No comments:
Post a Comment