Wednesday Morning wake-up

This morning the water heater died. While I was standing in the shower. Washing my hair. Contrary to those old courtship myths, the poor guy who gets turned down for a date in favor of "washing my hair", isn't always being told he's an activity of last resort, after the truly mundane chores of personal hygeine. Washing one's hair, at least for those of us with a yard or so of it to deal with, can be a relaxing ritual. Its a zen moment, where one can luxuriate in the feel of warm water streaming over one's scalp, and flowing down one's back, wetting the hair down, and feeling the texture change from slippery silk, to heavy, weighted with water. The tactile feel of shampoo, sticky at first, then lathering into great foamy suds. And the scent... If you read the ingredient list on most shampoos, from the "store brand" to those sold by the salons, they're remarkably similar--except for the scent. Hair products come in as many exotic scents as one could wish, and for as vaired prices. Thanks to a traumatic childhood encounter, I avoid strawberry, but quite like sandalwood. Mostly I prefer something neutral, that won't compete with my perfume, or offend the various felines I encounter. So there I was, enjoying a moment of sheer hedonism, not thinking of much at all, other than letting the stress of the last week flow down the drain with the soapsuds, and laughing to myself as I remembered an email from a friend. I cherish my time in the shower. After spending nearly a month in cosy quarters, where a truly hot shower is a wistful fantasy, and "water pressure" is euphemistic at best, I treasure shower time. It is the one pleasure which occasionally makes me question my passion for certain remote locations. I was feeling quite pleasantly grounded, and almost ready to start rinsing off the suds, when I noticed the water was becoming suspiciously cool. I'd heard my housemate get up and start moving round, so I thought for a moment she'd turned on the water. Old houses have some peculiar plumbing arrangements. But no. The water rapidly went from pleasantly warm, to frigid. All attempts at adjusting water temperature were unsuccessful. The sybaritic experience degenerated into a rush to rinse the suds from a yard of heavy, chilled hair while frantically trying to keep it away from my shrinking skin. I leaped from the shower, and swathed in towels, went stumbling down the stairs. Its hard to be graceful when stiff with cold and shivering... Calvin The Paw greeted me as I entered the kitchen (I swear the blasted cat was laughing). "Ummm, did you have the water on?" I asked Judy ---"otherwise, I think the water heater has croaked." After further discussion, we all trooped down to the basement, where indeed, the water heater was giving off strange sizzling noises. The cat was definitely laughing. Just wait Calvin, the new water heater will be installed tomorrow, and then...!!!