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Ye Are the Salt of the Earth, and Sainted July 22, 2011

Posted by J. in Domesticity, Other People's Genius.
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Did you ever see the episode of the Vicar of Dibley where a TV show comes to Dibley to film Geraldine’s Sunday service and the verger Alice butchers the reading?  She practices her reading diligently, but when Sunday comes around and she’s reading from the gigantic King James Bible with the old printing where all the s’s look like f’s, she gets confused.  Here, see for yourself.  It’s at about 11:45 in…

Alice:  “The lesson is taken from the sixth chapter of the Song of Solomon, beginning at the second verse.  [reading]  Ye are the fault of the earth and fainted… sainted. God shall feel… seal your endeavours until ye fit on his right hand. Therefore fight the good fight, for his… fake, and he shall be thy fu…

Geraldine:  “SUCCOR!  He shall be thy succour.”

Alice Tinker: “…thy succour.”

Cracks me up every time.  And when we’re being gripped by a heat wave of Biblical proportions, not much makes me chortle.

I have, however, been having a great deal of fun taking screen caps of the weather from Channel 9's website and making them more accurate in both content and sentiment.

So, because it’s been so bloody hot here the past few days, we decided last night to screw the whole thing and go out to supper.  It put us a tad over budget for the week but you know what?  I ate a meal without wanting to puke.

Mostly.

It was cold as a meat locker in Chili’s which was fantastic.  They brought us endless cold drinks, all the chips and salsa we could gag down, and even the kids seemed quite content to sit and enjoy the cool air.

The honey-chipotle chicken crispers were good.  Very spicy and very sweet at the same time–too much for the kiddos to stand, but that was about the only thing on the plate I wanted to eat.  I love salty food, but really Chili’s?  I ate two fries before I couldn’t take the saltiness anymore, and I didn’t even try the corn because I could actually see the salt sparkling on it.

Lest you think I’m singling out Chili’s, this happened at the 99 the last time we ate there.  I had steak tips which really didn’t need to be salty at all, and fries that were caked with salt.

It was off-putting.

What’s the deal with that?  What happened to preparing a meal and letting the customer decide how much salt it needs?  I’m really just sick of chain restaurants.  I think all the food tastes the same, and I’ve pinpointed it to what must be a gigantic container of seasoned salt in the kitchen.

At least I know now to tell the server that I don’t want any extra salt or other seasoning applied to my food when I order.  You watch: next time we go out it will the blandest meal ever.

Eh, I suppose it’s no big deal.  God knows my feet appreciate the lack of salt these days.  Man, when it’s hot and humid my feet swell up like two…swollen things.  They never used to that, then I had Dave and WHAM.  I’m Captain Edema.

Somewhere in the world there’s an 80-year-old woman walking around with my ankles.  Probably eating salt with no repercussions, too.  Fucker.

But, in the category of Salt of the Earth, there are great kindnesses abounding.  Did I mention how fucktastically hot it’s been here for the past couple of days?   When I got up this morning it was 91 degrees in my living room.  I shit you not.  You can have all the fans a’turnin’ you want, but when it’s 90 degrees by mid-morning, it’s like living in a convection oven.  So, I broke down and hauled the AC unit out of the shed, even though I’d been advised against excessive exertion in this kind of weather.

I wonder if the weather department at WMUR would find these funny or not. I bet Mike Haddad would laugh.

I have a love/hate relationship with the air conditioner.  Air conditioning gives me a headache.  I don’t know why.  And luckily I live in a place where the heat comes in during the day but then is chased away at night most of the time.  You can leave the house open with fans going all night, get the  house nice and cool, and when it starts warming up outside during the afternoon, close the house up tight and be good to go until it cools off again.  Lather, rinse, repeat.

But not this week.  And on days like this I like having the AC on full blast and making it cold enough to keep milk fresh on the kitchen counter.  And if I have to pop Advil like I’m eating M&M’s, so be it.  Which is also adding to my giant feet issues, in case you were wondering.

So I hauled the AC out, washed it up and out and got it all shined up nice and wrestled it into the window.  I cranked it on and collapsed, dripping with sweat and basting in my own stank, into my chair.  A few minutes later the phone rings.

“Hey.”  It’s Fr. Albert.  He’s in Lochmere and wants to know if we have any use for a “whomp-ass” air conditioner.  If so, he’ll be backing into my driveway in about ten minutes.

Is a bear Catholic?  Does the Pope shit in the woods?

Not only did he haul in the gigantic AC unit, he put it together, installed it, and even cut a couple of pieces of wood to make sure it wouldn’t budge an inch in the window frame.  It seems one of our summer parishoners decided to stop dicking around with a window unit and had central air installed in her cottage and gave the old one to Father.    And from there it came to us.

And he wasn’t kidding about whomp-ass, either.  It went from 91 degrees to 71 in less than two hours.  It hasn’t gone over 70 in the living room all day even when it got to 110 on the porch this afternoon.

Did I bitch about it being five below zero six months ago? Yeah, probably. Shut up.

And now the smaller unit is in our bedroom so until the nighttime temps drop back down later this weekend, we’ll be cooler upstairs too.  And if you listen real carefully, you can hear the sound of the meter jumping off the side of the house.  I’m trying not to think about what my PSNH bill is going to be next month.

This must be what it’s like to be Paris Hilton.

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Comments»

1. bezzie - July 23, 2011

I don’t really like A/C either. People at work give me shit about it. “But you’re from Alaska—the fact that we keep the office at negative 10 degrees shouldn’t bother you.” Yeah well we wear parkas when it’s negative 10, and A/C is a “fake” cold. I don’t know how to describe it, but it’s not the same as a January day outside.
Stay cool!

2. Pippa Posey Peanut Butter Pants - July 25, 2011

I would have responded sooner to your latest post Poops, but I’m only now coming out of my heat induced stupor. I’m a New Englander damn-it and I hate this shit. People kept repeating to me all week (cheerfully no less) that it beat 10 below. Okay, but it still sucked…and I wanted to punch them in the throat. Loved your post…sorry about your cankles and feet.

3. Aritul - February 23, 2014

I loved the Vicar of Dibley and that sermon reading was gold. I love how Geraldine saves her from saying something that she shouldn’t have.


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