He that died o' Wednesday. And not I.
A new water heater sits in the kitchen, and the old water heater--now interestingly dented about the top fifth--sits on the porch, draining at bloody last. Guy the Invaluable Neighbour suggested that I add a car up on blocks in the yard, and a couple of shotguns on the porch, and get that stereotype rolling. Especially if it allowed me to shoot squirrels. I'd so love to shoot some of those blow-dried rats, but I'd think a shotgun would be less than optimal (plus I've never held a shotgun).
The new heater arrived yesterday morning, and Guy and I spent most of yesterday evening wrestling and prying the old one out of its niche under the stairs, which required popping out the baseboards and shoe-shelf from the closet. I suppose the old one must have been installed when we re-did the hallway and took out the walls, (several years ago) because otherwise I don't know how it fit. Though it must have been lighter and more manoeuvreable when it wasn't BLOODY FULL OF WATER that refused to drain.
Guy shimmed the tank up while I levered it from side to side with a length of 2x4 (thus the dents, from my mighty thews & 2x4) and that got some of the water out and let him eventually tip it forward onto the dolly. He remarked, on his way out, how feather-light the new tank seemed in comparison, and gosh yes.
I swept out the understairs, and propped the drain-tray up to let the floor dry under it. With luck I'll be able to have that hot bath on Saturday. Mmm. Hot water on demand is one of the great triumphs of civilisation, up there with antibiotics and anaesthesia.
In other updates, it looks as if I'm getting away with a crown and not a root canal. Hurrah! (in a muted way, in case the tooth falls apart before the crown is permanently cemented in)
The Medieval Seminar went well, and we may be able to expand our display next year, along with a much more interesting topic: Medieval Beasts. Lots of display potential there, though I many not have time to write, illustrate and bind a small 14th c. bestiary.
Three more agent queries sent on Sunday, and my first form rejection from an agent--I'm not quite sure how to mark that milestone, perhaps with a hot bath.
Got my crit assignments for the Potlatch writers' workshop, only three stories. Rather a large number of students, it seems, so the sessions have been broken up into five, each with a single instructor (or so it looks on pixels). The three stories are quite different, so there should be some interesting perspectives.
Tomorrow I must get downtown and book tickets for Serena to visit this month, so we can hang out and talk writing. It's too bad I'm not linked up with any local writers' groups, for hanging-out purposes, but I'm not sure how much I'd want to be committed to any regular face-to-face group.