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04 February 2007 @ 06:53 pm
Go Me!!!  
 

One of the great things about RPGs, the real ones not those computer games, is that they teach you to problem solve. You take stock of what is available to the party and you figure out how to escape the maze, kill the dragon, find the treasure, etc. with it. When something happens in real life you are more likely to do the same instead of just sitting down and giving up. 

A little over an hour ago I was talking to Edward and noticed that it was starting to get toward dark. We have a freeze warning for tonight so I needed to cover my potted plants and start the facet dripping. I decided to go into the old trailer while I was out there and grab the salad dressing and pickles that were still in the fridge there. I didn't bother with a jacket just a ratty pullover since it isn't that cold yet. 

Still talking I pulled the door shut behind me a little quickly to keep the cat inside and headed out. When I came back a few minutes later I couldn't open the door. I set the pickles down and tried again. The latch wouldn't even budge. I hadn't locked it, it was just stuck. 

Didn't matter anyway because the keys were in my jacket pocket. The one I hadn't bother to put on. The one inside the trailer.

I got off the phone and tried not to panic. I'd left a space heater on and the cats inside. Okay, worse case I could turn off the juice at the power pole so I didn't have to worry about burning the place down. I could sleep in the old place. But, if I cut the power then I'd lose what I was working on on the computer and the cats would be without heat during a freeze. Besides there wasn't anything to much to eat in the old place and the heater that is still in there wouldn't be enough to get it comfortably warm. 

I couldn't drive over to my cousin's to spend the night because the keys to the van are on the same key ring as the trailer keys. 

I tried the door again. I rammed it with my shoulder a few times to try and knock loose whatever was jammed.

As much as I hated it I would have to call a locksmith. Even if there was something broken in the front door he should be able to get me in the back door. 

There are 3 listings for locksmiths in the phone book I retrieved from the old place. 1 phone was out of service, 1 was on an answering machine, and the other guy told me he was too tired to come out and hung up on me. I realized after the fact that it's Superbowl Sunday and that probably explains the lack of available help from the pros.

Damn. Tried the door again. 

Decided to call my cousin and ask her to come get me. 

They have call waiting, an answering machine, and hardly ever go out on a Sunday night. The phone rang for 2 minutes with no answer. 

Tried the door again. 

Two of the windows roll out but two slide. Went and got an old step ladder and tried them. The first one didn't move but the second one opened. Too high up to do me any good. 

Went and got the extension ladder. Discovered that it was WAY wobbly and it should be a last resort. Went and got a milk crate and a shelf . Shelf was too small to set the step ladder on. Went and got another milk crate to set beside the first to provide a broader base and a piece of plywood. Step ladder did not reach high enough for me to try and go through the window. 

Walked around muttering like a crazy person and looking at things to judge how much weight they could take and how tall they were. 

Came across an old barstool that was at least 6 inches taller than my step ladder and dragged it over and put it on top of the board on top of the milk crates. Success!! 

Attempted to crawl trough the window only to discover that I couldn't squeeze through. At least at that angle and without losing 50 pounds and at least a cup size.

Started wishing for a child. Wondered if Katje would drive an hour each way to loan me hers. 

From my vantage point half way in I could get a good look at the door and the lock was indeed in the unlocked position. What if I could reach the latch, might it work from inside? 

Went to look for something long and got an old broom. Climbed back up the tower of junk and wedged myself back in. The broom handle was too thick. Saw my umbrella, which is normally in the van but we've been having heavy rain, leaning by the door. Used broom to snag the umprella. 

The hook end of the umbrella was too thick but the pointy end worked fine! Sucess! The door opened!!!! 

So, as I sit here safely back indoors I'd like to thank the following: 

Richard for running RPGs for us for a decade 
My mother for teaching me to think on my feet even before that. 
My father for leaving such a staggering array of junk about the place. 
God for having it be a nice day instead of the weather you'd expect before a freeze. Doing all this in 50F weather was much easier than it might have been. 
And me, for being stubborn enough to figure something out.

And I'd like the wish the locksmith dudes a massive hangover from drinking too much beer watching the Superbowl tonight. As long as your team isn't the Bears I hope they lose.

 
 
 
forthrightly: Oh My Akitoforthrightly on February 5th, 2007 05:07 pm (UTC)
You clever girl, you!

See? All these odd facets of our lives do come in handy. I blame my own problem-solving saavy on a lifelong love of mysteries. Trixie Belden, eat your heart out! ::giggle::

Three cheers for the satisfaction of figuring your way out of a tricky situation!

~forth
ranuelranuel on February 5th, 2007 06:53 pm (UTC)
Yay! Another Trixie Beldon fan! Bob Whites Forever! Who needs boring old Nancy Drew?
(Anonymous) on February 9th, 2007 08:10 pm (UTC)
You know I love you to bits, right?
ROTFLMAO--50# and a cup size! I'm seeing this in my head...

Again, ROTF--started wishing for a child...(they take longer than 15 seconds to make, you know that right?)

Smootches!


ranuelranuel on February 9th, 2007 08:33 pm (UTC)
Re: You know I love you to bits, right?
Gine?

You guys know you can get a LJ account for free just for posting with and never touch it otherwise right?

Anyway, I never said I wished for a child of my very own. Just a generic kid. The returnable kind.