Lest you think the Sicilian is the only one in our home that does odd/dumb things, rest assured, that is not the case. Just last week I managed to surpass my normal level of stupidity.
I spent the greater part of an hour talking to my sister about an upcoming trip the Sicilian, his granddaughter, and I are planning to take the week of Thanksgiving. My sister and I discussed our hotel arrangements, places we planned to visit, and she gave me a number of helpful suggestions on what to eat and things to do. My sister does not have any family near her and generally spends most of the holidays by herself. Not wanting her to spend another holiday alone, I said “Let me be the first person to invite you to our house for thanksgiving. We’d love to have you visit us.”
My sister snorted a big guffaw and said, “You won’t be home for thanksgiving you’re taking your vacation then.”
Silence, as I realized the stupidity of my offer.
In Yankee land, where I am from, my friends and I were hardy stock. We swam comfortably in pools when the water was 80 degrees, sometimes colder if we were desperate for a swim. My reason for putting in a pool at our home was to have refreshing cool water to swim in when the Dog Weeks of summer hit. (There are no Dog days in south Louisiana, the heat stretches on for weeks or months.)
I was in Hog heaven in May when the pool water was 82 degrees. “Come in,” I said to the Sicilian. “It’s perfect.”
“Too cold,” he replied.
He had the same response daily until the water hit 90 degrees, then he opted to ease into the water. I suggested he take a towel and a bar of soap as the pool was like bath water. Two days later when the water hit 94, I felt scalded when I jumped into the water.
“The water’s too hot. I have to find a way to cool the pool before our company arrives,” I said.
Like the Baby Bear in the Goldilocks story, the Sicilian said, “It’s just right.”
“Not for me it isn’t”
Plan one: Add water with the hose. I sprayed water into the pool for two hours, enough to send my water bill soaring. The result: still 94 degrees.
Plan two: Add ice. I could not find a place that sold dry ice, but the local grocery sells 20 pounds bags of ice. I lugged home 200 pounds. I used some to ice a cooler of beer, and the rest I dumped into the pool. Result: no change.
Plan three: Add more ice. I called the Sicilian who was driving home from jury duty (see post The Curse Strengths) and asked him to bring home 200 pounds of ice. An hour later he arrived home with the ice.
“What took you so long?” I asked.
“The grocery had to go to their store room and get more ice. The manager told me some woman came in and bought 200 pounds of ice this morning. Wonder who that was?” He said as he schlepped the ice to the pool.
The result: Nothing. nada, Zilch. Still 94 degrees.
So, we all steeped in the pool like tea bags for two days until thankfully we had an inch of rain and the water dropped 5 degrees. I was in hog heaven. The Sicilian not so much. He was poolside waiting for the water to warm.