SNAFU

"Situation normal, all fouled up."  (Sanitized version of a WWII acronym.)  On Saturday, the dishwasher was added to the current list of problems.  Calling home buyer's insurance, I was told someone would come out on Monday.  Monday, I was told they'd assigned it to a company that no longer serviced this area, but someone else would come on Tuesday between one and five.  I just love those "windows."  Being tethered to the house because I must answer the phone when the tech calls or be cancelled was okay because it was one hundred degrees at eleven a.m. and sitting still seemed like a good idea.  After waiting the four hours, DW Guy called at five, saying he was running late, had one more call before me, and would see me when he saw me.  Yippee, Skippy.  At five-thirty, the power went out.  Without the ceiling fan, it was hotter inside than out, so Bessie Anne and I joined the chickens in the front yard in the shade.  Without electricity, DW Guy didn't stand a chance of fixing the dishwasher (although it was tempting to let him try).  I called and was able to cancel the appointment, but couldn't reschedule until Thursday.  SNAFU.  Electricity returned at seven.  It's all good.