Gas For the Soul

So,  we are renting a house (and an old one at that) – it had a dinosaur in the basement, that we believed to be burning up half the state of Pennsylvania’s electricity  usage.  So, our landlord decided to replace the dinosaur with propane heat – apparently more efficient and cheaper.   A few weeks later, during a torrential downpour, a big truck pulled into the driveway , sliced through the beautiful green lawn and laid down the tank.  I didn’t notice at first just where it was going.  Until I looked out the kitchen window – which overlooks a rather large (and full) pine tree with a space high enough  to stand under the branches, and on which the previous owner had hung a ceramic bird feeder.  I once imagined myself sitting at my little kitchen café table, caffeine drip in my hand, watching the birds – or squirrels – dining under that canopy where the feeder swayed.  Oliver prefers to lie on said table watching the butterflies settling on the bush on the other side of the glass, but no matter – we could share the space just fine.

But to my dismay – this is what I saw.
And, in case you’re wondering, that trail running from the tank to the house is NOT a gopher tunnel; it is the gas line to the house. (Note the speeder who is starring as an “extra” in my photo.)  I guess there will be no more soccer in the side yard.
I was momentarily speechless.  That is NOT exactly what I consider an ideal morning view with my cup of coffee.  A propane tank, roughly the size of a 747 fuel tank, nestled dead center in the yard under a – thank goodness for that! – oversized pine tree.  Really, it’s  as large as the commercial tank my mom has for her restaurant.  The good news is, most people can’t see it from the road.  And really, isn’t that the important thing??  

There’s probably enough gas in that thing to heat the White House, though there’s probably some law or something about the White House NOT having propane heat lest some terrorist target its location and blow all 570 gallons of its white paint to smithereens.   At the very least, there’s got to be enough gas in it to heat our Hobbit-sized little house for the next five years.  Really.
So Todd and I are pulling out of the driveway one weekend afternoon, and I said to him, “will you just look at that thing?  It’s HUGE.”

“Yeah, it looks like a giant pill.”

Now, we do share the same sense of humor, he and I.  And I just started giggling like the March Hare.  He was pleased, I could tell, that I found his comment so hilarious.  But, simile aside, I burst into hysterical laughter because I crack myself up.

“ Life got you down?  Have we got a PILL for you! And when things get really bad, add some fuel to the fire! Because, remember – depression hurts everyone!”  Bwahahahahahaha!!!

So, with Todd’s help, I made a small adjustment….

It’s gas for the soul, folks!!   And THAT, my friends, is how I find Joy.

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