Our likeness to a Thomas Kinkade postcard continues. The warm light shine out from beneath the snowy roofs. People wander the streets in colourful mufflers, and children frolic in the huge drifts still so pristine. Cars are few and far between. Trucks are more common.
The very nice man who dug my car out at 11pm last night was almost embarressed to take the small gratuity I was delighted to give. Afterall, how many people work those hours in the freezing cold and how many go back for a shovel when the plough alone cannot get my car out? Oh I was delighted to be able to show some appreciation. This morning when I went outside at 6am, my car had been de-snowed, and my parking spaces were completely cleaned of snow. My sidewalk as well was cleared from my door and ten feet in both directions. Now, who says these is no such thing as kindness? My neighbour, more jaded than I, asked me how much I gave him. Not enough, I replied with a smile.
Today I was unable to get to my first client without sliding dangerously, and this on the main roads. It is really only my neck of the woods that is so dangerous as we are technically on the outskirts of our fabulous resort town. The budget does not include tri-daily sanding which at this state is necessary.
All dressed in my scrubs, equipped with MRSI worthy equipment, I parked back in my perfectly ploughed parking space and came home for a nice long winter nap. Now, clearly I am not one of those who are happy to be snowbound for longer than a day or two, and so I felt the urgent need for some humanity. Across the street for a lunch of coffee, ginger ale, burger platter with sweet potato fries, and apple crisp. It was delicious.
The server was nice enough to get a newspaper for me that facilitated my lunch visit to the 90 minute mark. It was lovely.
Tonight I shall go to bed early and try HARD to will the roads less icey. Tomorrow I shall be driving UPhill in our Village where the tax dollars are spent.
If I can get up the hill all should be well. I will pack my outfit for job 2 as I cannot see myself getting home at midnite. Perhaps I shall pack 2 outfits.
Snowfall warning for Sunday. Unbelievable.
Showing posts with label small cold comfort. Show all posts
Showing posts with label small cold comfort. Show all posts
19.12.08
26.5.05
"oh and Harmony do you mind cats?"
Just a little question: "Do you mind cats?"
hmm.... the telephone had rung at a clients whilst I was petting a cat who no doubt smelled the last cat on my pantslegs. In fact, every client that day had a cat or 5. It was a curious question.
As I am impaired by asthma and allergies, I supposed this might be a home where the cats had free run everywhere with possible unfortunate results.
The door was open so in I went. This home was about as far from the Office as we go. I was rather surprised to be sent there but I aint the brain... just the hands. And really, it is all about senority and hours. Don't ever think otherwise. So in I go way out along the waterfront three little towns up, and as soon as I got inside I took my puffer out and inhaled one long breath of ventolin.
A gentleman rushed down the stairs, red-faced and harried looking.
"Oh I am so embaressed, I tried to get organised for you... "
The purpose of this visit was obstensively for the gent to get some time out of the home. I was there to be with the Lady of the house. For four hours. She had other ideas. Like me leaving immediatly.
There is always a moment where you can decide to do "what you are supposed to do" or, if you are a halfway decent person, you can opt to do what needs to be done. After she got her shouting out of her system I just asked the gent to keep her busy and I went into SST mode.
In my entire life, I do not think I have *ever* worked that hard that fast.
Yes, I know I did not go to college to be a cleaner. I know it is not in the "rules" but it was either clean it up or leave. Noone else in that home could do it. Two vacuum bags later, the downstairs was livable.
Damn cats.
I got upstairs by asking the gent to tell his Lady the Doctor said I had to come. She settled down after that and even tried to tip me. hee hee.
It is something I really do understand.
Once upon a time for many long years this proud Lady ruled that roost.
"I call her "The Dictator" he said.
Her vision has failed enough that she could not really see the cobwebs or the sand in the carpet. She can't hear the best these days and she has profound short term memory loss. She knows it's her house though and by golly she can do her own housekeeping. I even offered to assist her in the shower. She laughed.
By that time I was deemed all right by her. I told her I need the money so I have to work. So please don't fire me. OKay, a little dramatic but true none the less. Except the inference that she could fire me. I think it will take about 4 weeks to whip that place into shape. Then, perhaps, we can tackle the shower. Hopefully the gent can get away next week.
I am going to feel this tomorrow.
It was an amazing challenge to try to get a carpet to yield up 6 years of dirt. To rid mouldings of all manner of small, ominous dark objects. Dust, dirt, droppings....
hmm.... the telephone had rung at a clients whilst I was petting a cat who no doubt smelled the last cat on my pantslegs. In fact, every client that day had a cat or 5. It was a curious question.
As I am impaired by asthma and allergies, I supposed this might be a home where the cats had free run everywhere with possible unfortunate results.
The door was open so in I went. This home was about as far from the Office as we go. I was rather surprised to be sent there but I aint the brain... just the hands. And really, it is all about senority and hours. Don't ever think otherwise. So in I go way out along the waterfront three little towns up, and as soon as I got inside I took my puffer out and inhaled one long breath of ventolin.
A gentleman rushed down the stairs, red-faced and harried looking.
"Oh I am so embaressed, I tried to get organised for you... "
The purpose of this visit was obstensively for the gent to get some time out of the home. I was there to be with the Lady of the house. For four hours. She had other ideas. Like me leaving immediatly.
There is always a moment where you can decide to do "what you are supposed to do" or, if you are a halfway decent person, you can opt to do what needs to be done. After she got her shouting out of her system I just asked the gent to keep her busy and I went into SST mode.
In my entire life, I do not think I have *ever* worked that hard that fast.
Yes, I know I did not go to college to be a cleaner. I know it is not in the "rules" but it was either clean it up or leave. Noone else in that home could do it. Two vacuum bags later, the downstairs was livable.
Damn cats.
I got upstairs by asking the gent to tell his Lady the Doctor said I had to come. She settled down after that and even tried to tip me. hee hee.
It is something I really do understand.
Once upon a time for many long years this proud Lady ruled that roost.
"I call her "The Dictator" he said.
Her vision has failed enough that she could not really see the cobwebs or the sand in the carpet. She can't hear the best these days and she has profound short term memory loss. She knows it's her house though and by golly she can do her own housekeeping. I even offered to assist her in the shower. She laughed.
By that time I was deemed all right by her. I told her I need the money so I have to work. So please don't fire me. OKay, a little dramatic but true none the less. Except the inference that she could fire me. I think it will take about 4 weeks to whip that place into shape. Then, perhaps, we can tackle the shower. Hopefully the gent can get away next week.
I am going to feel this tomorrow.
It was an amazing challenge to try to get a carpet to yield up 6 years of dirt. To rid mouldings of all manner of small, ominous dark objects. Dust, dirt, droppings....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
