Yesterday was supposed to be a Snow Day.
(Which I am inordinately fond of, thus the caps.)
And evidently it was - for the rest of the valley.
Here at Witt's End it snowed just a bit; a bit which promptly melted.
Though it was windy. A lovely cold wind, moaning in its mournful high pitched voice. Swirling about our house's too tall peaks; coming from the south (I think) and, (oddly enough), the east (I think). Thus creating that horrid, semi occasional occurrence: the downdraft. A irksome creature, it hurtles down our chimney, (quite against the laws of gravity I suspect) - causing the family room wood burning stove to belch out plume after plume of horrible, thick, stinky smoke again and again.
And yeal - again.
Which (literally) stunk the entire joint up.
Our wood-burning stove. An innocent victim of the dreaded downdraft.
Naturally the oven repair guy (John) was here during the smoke fiasco. He was quite nice, offering advice on "opening the dampers". Quite solid advice that - no doubt it may very well have helped someone; though of course that someone wasn't me.
(I've been building fires for a long time.
How long? Seriously - are you trying to ruin my day entirely?
Sheesh.)
The dampers were open. The fire had been built properly (by me), pushed to the back of the stove (this often helps on such occasions), and was blazing away.
Till the freakin' downdraft plunged down the chimney yet again - and the smoke belched out.
(We're considering extending the chimney another six feet - I think we've done this twice already - it may help.
Or not.
I'll let ya know.)
And then it was evening.
And "The Storm" was all over the news, but not all over my yard.
Like this. This is how my yard should look right now.
(My reaction? Well, quite immature of course. I stuck my tongue out at the weather guy, switched off the tv, and set down to finish overdue edits.)
After a dinner of my favorite thing to eat in the entire world: Leftovers.
There is nothing like a nice plate or bowl of Leftovers to free up your entire night.
And I can't help thinking, either leftovers or take away (Cafe Rio?) would have made a nice dinner tonight. Nestled all cozy in my house atop these not snowy enough hills.
If only there were any leftovers left; and if good ol' repair guy John hadn't gotten the oven working just fine once again.
Dang it.
A picture of last nights leftovers. Find out more about it here: Indonesian Chicken Soup
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