Connections: Happily Homebound
Guess what song has been going through my head for more than two weeks since two feet of snow fell and the temperature started to go down. Sorry, but I can’t help setting things to music. What I keep hearing, a la Louis Armstrong, is:
“Oh, the weather outside is frightful/ But the fire is so delightful/ And since we’ve no place to go/ Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.”
The words suit the mood. The truth is that with heat and electricity, I’ve been happily housebound and been lucky that there have been only two minor problems to cope with even though the house is old and poorly insulated.
The good news is that one of the problems, a frozen cold water pipe in the sink in one of the bathrooms, miraculously corrected itself, and we’ve been able to keep it thawed by letting it drip. That’s actually even better than good news, because that part of the house is on a concrete foundation and the pipes in that bathroom go through it.
The bad news is that we can’t use the washing machine because water won’t drain out of it. I tried, foolishly pouring in hot water, and caused a flood. I’ve been washing a few thises and thats in the bathtub instead, which isn’t much fun, but, because the weather is frightful, it’s easier for me than going to a friend’s or relative’s house, or the Laundromat in Amagansett or Sag Harbor.
Then, too, we made being housebound very easy for ourselves by buying enough groceries to last before the big storm hit, and then ordering a week’s worth online. And that introduced us to a remarkable man.
It was after 8 p.m. on Monday night when the delivery arrived. Yes, the weather was frightful, frightfully cold at least. Nevertheless, saying he was well-layered, the delivery man stopped in the vestibule to take off his boots and said he wanted to treat every house as he would treat his own. Smiling as he brought in the bags, he admired the cat. Setting one down on a counter, he reached in and took out a bottle of Murphy’s Oil Soap. “It shouldn’t have been packed next to the kale,” he said matter-of-factly.
Impressed by his thoughtfulness and good nature, I asked if he was headed home. “No,” he said. He explained that he lived in downtown Brooklyn and had one more delivery to make — in Mattituck.
Struck by the differences between this man’s circumstances and my own, I said, “It’s not easy to make a living.” It was a coals-to-Newcastle comment if ever there was one, and I was a little abashed as I handed him a tip. He turned to leave, nodded, and said, “You made my day.”