Fuzzwater Flash

Happy 2020.

And ah-CHOO!!!

One of the joys of living in an area where the Rednecks are our more sophisticated neighbors means at midnight New Year’s there were fireworks. And gunshots.

And more fireworks.

And more gunshots.

In fact, they didn’t bother waiting until midnight Arizona time, and most assuredly didn’t stop when the witching hour had passed. I guess they figured it was 12 o’clock somewhere, right?

Our geriatric furbaby was a wreck. He’s grown less nervous about thunderstorms, but when the neighbors were lit like the 4th of July (and so were their fireworks), Ser Doggo freaked the hell out. And when he freaks out, he does everything possible to melt into my skin. At o’dark thirty at the turn of the decade, he decided to melt directly into my face.

I love the fuzzball, but I am allergic to his dander. No matter how many allergy meds I take, they can only do so much when he’s literally lying on my face. For ninety minutes, nonstop. Redneck Central subsided in correspondence to my eyes swelling up and my lungs and sinuses going into overdrive. Two days later, I’m back to normal, if you can apply the word to anything about me.

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Dangerspouse, I was thinking of you New Years’ Eve when I shoved my frozen lasagna into the oven. And not once did I consider apologizing for the box-o-pasta. Besides, you can make nearly anything edible when you dump an extra ton of shredded mozzarella on top. The one exception is a nationwide chain I’ll call Li’l Roman Emperor’s Pizza, but that’s another story. You know the franchise: they figure by saying pizza twice together, fast, it’ll convince the gullible that what they sell tastes better than the cardboard box it’s inside. Pizza, pizza. Er, sorry, but no amount of anything can make their product palateable.

New Year’s Day we had better fare – what I dubbed “Chicken Pot Pie soup.” Not actually made from pot pies, but it has a similar flavor. Soooo glad I found fat Amish egg noodles at the grocery store!! They taste like homemade egg noodles – thick and hearty. It was a long way from haute cuisine, but it warmed our bellies and was even better warmed over.

This is my own concoction, so mileage may vary. If you’ll forgive me for using every shortcut in the book, Dangerspouse:

CHICKEN POT PIE SOUP
Ingredients:
About a pound of diced raw chicken, boneless Butter (I used 6 tbsp for richness) Salt* & Pepper to taste Water enough to cover 12 oz Amish egg noodles (uncooked) 1 small (8oz) can peas and diced carrots Half a small onion, diced 1 stalk of celery, diced 2 cans condensed cream of mushroom or cream of chicken soup Optional: 4 oz thinly sliced mushrooms
Directions:
Combine chicken, butter, and pepper in a large Dutch oven. Add enough water to cover, bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer until chicken is tender, stirring occasionally and adding water as needed. (*Note: I recommend waiting to add the salt because the soup adds a lot of salt.) Turn heat back to medium. Add the noodles, condensed soup, and vegetables. Add enough water that everything is covered and the broth is fairly thin. (You’ll want it to thicken into a sauce by the time it’s done, but not watery. The noodles will soak up a lot of the water as they cook, though.) Bring back to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer 15 minutes. Add salt to taste and cook another 5 minutes, or until the noodles are tender. Makes enough to feed a small army.

It was super yummy and made a HUGE batch. We shared with the neighbors and still had a whole lot of leftovers. Not that they lasted very long.

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Our handyman is here doing repairs today and tomorrow. We have no water at all for the moment and no hot water for a couple of days.

One downside to living in a tin-can house: water leaks are the enemy. And we had a nasty leak a few months ago, requiring the removal of the water heater. One of the supply lines to our shower had ruptured and was pouring into the water-heater closet area. However, our then-handyman didn’t do anything other than replacing the faulty lines. He did a good job as far as it went. Trouble is, our subfloor in this place is glorified sawdust and glue, which disintegrates when exposed to water. Hubby realized around Thanksgiving we’d acquired a soft spot in the bathroom floor. He pulled up the tile dropped in a small – about 12″x24″ – plywood patch.

I threw a fit then and there, insisting that was a band-aid approach. You could see where the floor subsided under the corner next to the vanity and under that end of the bathtub. But it wasn’t until he went in to replace the floor tiles he had to admit that I might be right – there might be more bad subfloor. The floor was still wet, or wet again, near the bathtub. He’d been trying to insist I just splashed when I bathed. That didn’t fly when it stuck around and got worse over the next few days.

Our current handyman – who we feed regularly in addition to paying his hourly because he’s SO WORTH IT – came over a few days ago and took a look. He told hubby if we didn’t replace the subfloor, the water heater was going to go right through it; as in, any minute now. Our house sits about 36″ off the ground. Going through the floor would be kind of a big deal.

I resisted the urge to say, “Told you so.” But I did insist while the water heater was already going to be yanked, we’re replacing the 40-year-old bathtub/shower faucet hiding behind it. The leaking, 42-year-old faucet. My husband didn’t argue with me this time. (Gee, I wonder why?)

As it worked out, the subfloor damage extended the whole length of the bathtub and well into the adjacent bedroom. It was just a matter of time until somebody or something went through the floor. Thankfully we dodged a bullet, but my Home Dep** credit card got a little bit of a workout, and hubby’s computer fund will be taking a hit to pay for the labor. Just another perk to owning a home, even if it’s paid off.

But here’s why we love our handyman and treat him like a god.

If we’d hired a construction company, this would’ve probably cost us at least 3 grand, maybe more. With our handyman, it’ll come in around $250-$300 for labor. Since hubby hoards stockpiles materials and hardware, the only new materials I had to buy were the faucet and a couple of small brass fittings, which came to less than $100 combined. Still money we didn’t want to spend, but I’ll take $400 over $3K any time.