What a start to the day! Clad only in my pajamas, hat, leather jacket and Wellingtons, I saw the wife and daughter off, walked Carl the Cattle Dog through the pouring rain so he could do his business and returned home with both of us in a thoroughly damp condition only to discover that the door was locked, and as I rarely think to carry my house keys in my jammies, we were in what is technically known as a pickle. Fortunately, I was waiting for a business call, so I had my cell phone with me. Unfortunately, I discovered that my neighbourhood is the classic definition of intermittent phone service and whereas my phone works fine when I'm in the house, when I'm outside it's the proverbial crap shoot with roaming charges.
Not that I was worried. I had three choices. Carl and I could sit out in the rain or huddled in the woodshed without food or drink until the rest of the family came home-- which would be a mere seven hours. We could walk through the rain down to the nearest coffee house and think this one out, but since we live out in the country that would have involved a tiny bit of walking; say, about ten or fifteen miles. Or I could wander around in the rain holding my cell phone out like a Geiger counter until I found a signal while hoping that a) the neighbours wouldn't think I was completely mad and b) that my wife would not send a jet of flame through the phone when I asked her to drive back home and unlock the door.
I decided on option three. I am now back in my office, right ear only slightly singed, typing this while Carl is curled up asleep on the office sofa, which is taking on the distinct aroma of wet dog.
This is what is known as the joys of country living.
1 comment:
Locking oneself out of one's home is embarassing, frustrating and inconvenient. So after I did it I got one of these.
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