FREEZING IN #SANTA #FE, PART 2

Freezing in Santa Fe,

House without heat

when we deliver futniture

Grace, trying to put a loving, happy face on a difficult, shivering situation, suggested that this evening could be very enjoyable, if we only worked a little at imagining that it was fun, fun, fun. 

Seeing the doubt in my face, she quickly said that this could be like camping out.  I started to remind her that, I’ve hated camping ever since my experiences bivouacking for six summers in the Illinois National Guard, when I slept outside in half a pup tent and stayed awake swatting mosquitoes for most of the night.

But she was not to be deterred.  She volunteered to sleep on the love seat, less than half the length of the couch, which would barely accommodate her nearly six-foot frame.  She gave me the ratty, brownish couch, which forced me to either hang my legs over one end or sleep with one foot on the ground as if I were preparing to make a getaway at any moment.

We could get some comforters out of the truck because they were the packing materials we had put in last.  We kept our clothes on, adding another two layers from the suitcases I was able to dig out of the truck.  At that point, we looked like refugees from a Michelin tire commercial. 

We tried to go to sleep, although every half hour one of us would whisper, “Are you awake?  How are you doing?”  This would generally be followed by an exact description of what pains were being experienced in our backs, knees, legs and necks.

Finally, around 6:00 am, with the first, brain-piercing light coming through the nude, shadeless, curtainless windows (memo: buy and install blinds, shades or curtains if we want to sleep past, oh say, 6 am), we gave up any pretence of sleeping.  We huddled in our comforters and looked out the window at our still-beautiful, mountain-rimmed, now grayish and snow-flecked view.   We held each other, both for warmth and out of love, and counted ourselves somewhat lucky to have bought this wonderful home.

While we waited for it to be late enough in the morning to call the heating expert and the furniture rental company to find out when our mattress would be delivered, we went to Harry’s Roadhouse, about 15 minutes away, for breakfast.  Our friends, Beryl and Sue, introduced us to Harry’s the previous summer.  It should be called Harry’s Gourmet Roadhouse because it raises roadhouse cooking to new heights.  Eating there might help to overcome the problems of the previous night.  The first order of business was to get a fine cup of coffee and warm up.

By that afternoon, the rental furniture had been picked up and returned to the warehouse, our mattress was delivered (meaning we could sleep in an actual bed that night), the truck was unloaded and Steve, owner of The Plumbing Company and the heating expert who installed the system in this house, said that his technician, Arturo, would arrive early the next day to “solve” the problems.

Not quite. 

Arturo lived with us for the next four days.  More in the next installment of FREEZING IN SANTA FE.