This is my 100th post. Does that call for cake?
Last year, I went through something I hope most homeowners never face - the moment when I opened the gas bill at the end of January and saw this: $200.01
Now, first of all...$0.01? Are you kidding me? Southwest Gas couldn't eat that penny just to avoid being a big corporate jerk? If Southwest Gas had been a person standing over my shoulder when I unfolded the statement, they would've jabbed the air with their knobby, stick-like index finger and made an annoying squealy sound to rub it in. And then probably they would've laughed maniacally and scampered away to go barbeque small children in a cave somewhere.
Second of all...and my parents can attest to this - my house was COLD last winter. Like, at-least-three-layers-of-clothing-during-the-day cold. I spent (let's be clear) more than two hundred dollars on gas in January and yet my house stayed consistently below 55 degrees during the day. To reiterate: Are you kidding me?
Thirdly, Weatherbug says it's 60 degrees somewhere in Tucson. Our thermostat, while unwilling to actually commit to a specific temperature, is hovering indecisively somewhere between 66 and 69 degrees this morning. Also, last night was a milestone of a happy sort: the first night this fall that we didn't have to turn on the swamp cooler for sleeping. Hooray!
But - and fourthly - happy cool weather means shivery cold weather is on the way which means Southwest Gas is lurking in the shadows somewhere rubbing their scrawny little hands together and thinking about Gold! Wonderful gooold! Or something. Which means that we need insulation badly. Which means that we need to get the damn electric done for a change. Which means that this past Saturday, we ripped out a couple ceilings on a whim after work.
Which, if we make a humongous stretch, brings us back to the first and second posts I ever made back in July of 2006. I will summarize them here:
Post #1 - I don't talk enough to have a blog.
Post #2 - But if I am going to force myself to talk about something, it will have to do with all the glorious sweat equity we are going to put into our poor, dilapidated abode so that in a year's time, it will be a little jewel of a house with insulation and everything and we will never have to pay more than sixty-five dollars in gas bills. Ever. Even in January.
Which brings me to my specially prepared 100th Post Celebration Speech and Comprehensive Plan for the Future of the Casita:
"Less talking -- more ripping out of ceilings!"