So I thawed it out with a hairdryer and space heater and then trudged to Home Depot to pick up an odd assortment of foam and insulation to cover the pipes. I am not a handyman. I am an artist.
At least that is what I tell myself. But I artistically patched together an overcoat for the pipes and it seemed to work. Though I'm pissed the plumber didn't think of this when he put the damned thing in. Apparently he was an artist and not a handyman either.
Fortunately the rest of the house seems warm and toasty (as will I be when I pay the gas and electricity bill).
Although I am a winter when it comes to my color palette, I am more of a tropical beach kind of guy (though my skin is as about as pale as it can get and I burn like bacon in the son). I would love to retire to some tropical place like the Caribbean or Mexico. A former co-worker posts moved to Mexico when he retires and he is always posting photos of him and his spouse drinking tropical drinks on their rooftop.
My recent trip to the ER to determine why my face started to look like Quasimodo, made me rethink whether being somewhere that didn't have easy access to medical care was a good idea at my age.
Once again I think we should spend our youth retired and work when we get to what is now retirement age.
Life just seems so backassward.