The Little House is about 95 years old. I’ve lived here for 27 years. I’ve learned the quirks and eccentricities of this lovely old house. It’s what makes it the perfect little house for me.
One of the first things I learned about The Little House is that the pipes freeze. The kitchen sink is in a part of the house that is built over a crawl space. The pipes run along the outside wall. If you don’t let the faucet drip a little when it gets cold, the pipes will freeze. Happened one of the first years XH and I lived here . . . we were lucky that the pipes didn’t burst when they thawed out and we never EVER let that happen again. A good bit of my anxiety over the winter is trying to remember if I let the faucet drip or not.
Now that I live here by myself, I’m doubly anxious about forgetting to leave the faucet dripping. I’ve been known to get out of a warm comfy bed at night to double check . . . can anyone say OCD?
It’s been bitterly cold here in my little part of Ohio for a while now . . . and today we are experiencing a January thaw. For the first time since Christmas, the temps here are above freezing . . . and I figured it was safe to turn off the faucet.
I didn’t turn off my brain though . . .
As I was coming up the stairs from taking a shower this morning, I noticed that the kitchen faucet wasn’t dripping . . . and I totally freaked out. You should note that I had just taken a shower . . . a nice hot shower . . . a fact that had totally escaped my poor little OCD “leave the water drip” brain . . .
I went to the sink to turn the faucet back on and happened to look at the thermometer in the kitchen window . . . and saw it was 34 degrees . . . and started laughing . . . because it was at that moment that I remembered looking at the thermometer and turning off the faucet as I headed downstairs to take a shower.
Be nice to me. I’m a natural blonde . . . .