On Thursday around 10 am the satellite system went out. Just a little menu on the screen that said "SEARCHING FOR SATELLITE." After an hour of watching it go through all the satellites and all the spots, I decided to call the company. The nice lady told me to make sure the dish wasn't blocked.
Well, duh. Eight hours of snow had done just that. So, rather than risk his ire and climb the ladder myself, I woke Jim and told him the problem. Bless him, he got up, put on his heavy-duty coveralls, and took a broom and the small ladder outside. Two minutes later I heard a crash. The ladder had collapsed, sending him sprawling on the ground. After his conniption fit, he said, "Well, I'm glad there's five inches of snow out there, otherwise I'd have broken a hip." He came back in and got the big ladder. This time, I stood guard. Snow removed from the dish, he came back inside, got a cup of coffee and began to tell me how bad his hip hurt. He came over to where I was sitting on the sofa, pulled down his long-john bottoms, and said, "Is there a bruise there?" I said, "No." He said, "Well, kiss it anyway and make it better."
Oh, well, I figured I've kissed his ass for 15 years now, one more time wouldn't hurt. And so I planted a big sloppy one on his right cheek. He went back to bed, laughing out loud at the joke he’d played on me. At least I had my satellite coverage back. Small price to pay. Besides, it's not the first time I've been the butt of a joke.
By the way, from then on I let him sleep and used the dust mop with the extension handle, which is just exactly long enough to reach from my hand to the top of the dish.
Well, duh. Eight hours of snow had done just that. So, rather than risk his ire and climb the ladder myself, I woke Jim and told him the problem. Bless him, he got up, put on his heavy-duty coveralls, and took a broom and the small ladder outside. Two minutes later I heard a crash. The ladder had collapsed, sending him sprawling on the ground. After his conniption fit, he said, "Well, I'm glad there's five inches of snow out there, otherwise I'd have broken a hip." He came back in and got the big ladder. This time, I stood guard. Snow removed from the dish, he came back inside, got a cup of coffee and began to tell me how bad his hip hurt. He came over to where I was sitting on the sofa, pulled down his long-john bottoms, and said, "Is there a bruise there?" I said, "No." He said, "Well, kiss it anyway and make it better."
Oh, well, I figured I've kissed his ass for 15 years now, one more time wouldn't hurt. And so I planted a big sloppy one on his right cheek. He went back to bed, laughing out loud at the joke he’d played on me. At least I had my satellite coverage back. Small price to pay. Besides, it's not the first time I've been the butt of a joke.
By the way, from then on I let him sleep and used the dust mop with the extension handle, which is just exactly long enough to reach from my hand to the top of the dish.
The pic shows the roofline. The only reason there's not much snow next to the truck is because Jim was out there half the night fighting it, hoping to get to work. Didn't happen. Oh, and that's the mailbox, a foot deep in the white stuff. Just beyond it is the pasture across the street. Seems we've set a new record for snowfall down here in Suthren Country. I'd just as soon do without.
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