The Curse of 58OHR

Boy there's always something going on with this house--now it's the hot water.  There isn't any.  I thought it was the hot water heater (that's redundant, unless there's a cold water heater) but then I shut off the breaker for the heater and when I turned it back on it made the most awful crackling noise, so maybe it's the breaker.  There's another breaker that doesn't work in that panel (the 220 panel) so this may be a bigger problem.  But I think that would be a cheaper problem to fix than buying and installing a new heater.  But what do I know?  Anyway I have to ask around to find an electrician.  I've got a plumber now but don't know an electrician to call.  Soon I suppose I'll need a roofer.  And a contractor.  And what?  Someone for everything.  Oh I love being a homeowner, especially in an owner-built home.

Anyway, not having hot water isn't the worst thing--not having WATER is worse and that's not my problem right now.  Whew!

I haven't been doing a lot lately, though I did go to Plattsburgh twice this week.  I went on Tuesday for a haircut, grocery shopping and mostly to have lunch with Barb.  Yesterday I went to have lunch with Julie.  Today I'm not going anywhere, I hope.  It's shower and laundry day at the Holts.  I have a few loads of wash to do and will take a nice hot shower down there.

The big news at 58OHR is the arrival of a cat.  Here kitty kitty.  I went to Julie's on Saturday and picked up Loppy, a huge male black cat.  Poor Loppy, he is not very happy here.  He went from the cat carrier to the kitchen cupboard and sat in a muffin tin for a few hours.  I finally dragged him out of there and carried his rigor-like body upstairs.  Now he lives there.  I feed him there and his liter box is there and he has shown himself twice, briefly, very briefly.  He does not like the dogs, who are fascinated by him (which is why he doesn't like them I'm sure) and he's not very fond of me.  I made a huge mistake by not blocking off the master bedroom, so he has hiding places galore.  I can't find him in that room.  It's no longer a bedroom, has been a storage unit for years now.  Boxes, plastic tubs, suitcases, tools, Christmas stuff, 3 bureaus, books, clothes--lots and lots of stuff.  And many places, apparently, for a huge black cat to hide.  Will he ever come downstairs voluntarily?  Who knows, but he's a very nice and gentle cat.  We'll work something out.