Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Sunday, July 10, 2011
No one knows what upset it, but the brand new loo, the pretty little sanitary white dispenser of our digestive by-production is on strike. At the beginning (a couple of days ago) the problem was a suspiciously familiar veeeeerrrrrryyyyyyy slow to respond to commands, with a few extra pushes (plunges) effectively convinced it to cooperate. But quickly the resistance escalated into all-out stubbornness. So, a new, heftier plunger was procured and a short round of calls to collect the access number to the only plumber I feel confident in doing the job well for a somewhat reasonable price - a friend of a friend whom I haven't seen in years.
The number is a private one, and I felt the need to be patient. In the meantime life continues, work must be accomplished, errands must be run and by the end of it, I discover that no I have not had a professional visit and yes, the porcelain princess has folded her hands and completely turned her back with deaf ears to our pleas. I made a convenient trip or two to local establishments later at night, giving more business to my community than I had planned but successfully avoiding adding pressure to the problem, if you know what I mean.
As a single parent, I am busy. As a single parent of mostly teenagers, I am not as anchored to the home as I have been in the past, and we do the fair amount of communicating in passing that many families with teenagers do. It seems that they did not catch on to my overnight emergency plan to demand less while strategizing the next move. In retrospect, I should have posted a sign at the least. "Please Unload Your Insoluble Fiber Elsewhere" may have been expedient. Unfortunately, they did not read my mind nor imitate it with their own logic, and I discovered a quite loaded bowl this morning, just prior to showers for church, the planned tour of the city festival, etc.
Now, I like this plumber I called. I would like to gift him with business from a home that he would not mind returning to if necessary. Hence, respect for his bowels, particularly when the proper receptacle for an unhappily queasy stomach's contents would be out of order is certainly central to my self-respect.
Enter quiet panic. It is Sunday, and an emergency call to any available service would be quite expensive. I am scheduled to the hilt already, and my kids aren't clean enough nor willing to assume cleanliness in the presence of such an unwelcoming entity. Everybody knows we need Lowes.... I consulted with my father, whose vague experience of similar battles has surfaced from my memory, and I ignored his advice: muck it out with good gloves, a bucket, and bleach. LOL. I went to Lowes, thinking that if I can get anything that will dissolve said sewer substances, I will be able to: 1. Buy time until tomorrow. 2. Greet the plumber with a genuine smile of relief rather than the one of nervous apology. At Lowes I met a $10 special forces unit: sulfuric acid with 12 buffers, safe for all plumbing including loos.
"Dear Fallen White Angel, some medicine just does not taste good. You will have to swallow it anyway." I'm going to nickname this stuff Hell. Hell in a Bottle. It rivals India in smell, It is of a more intense murky brown (gross), it contains important warnings about how quickly it burns, burns right through organic things (me, you, my darling offspring plus some plastics and paper, cotton, other common things that put delicate loos in fits) and, to great affect, it smokes and bubbles.
I have thrown hell into my fallen angel -for really she was a true angel when she first arrived with the light of rescue. Presently what I have to show for it is a smoking, bubbling, dangerously burning toilet.
A smoking Loo, and still no direct evidence for whom to blame.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
plan what you need/want
evaluate what it takes
do it right
don't expect more than your creation was designed for
Simple enough guide for construction, right?
What if we fancy our relationships as buildings?
In that view, a landscape littered with so many ill fitting (to the purpose), poorly built and unfinished or mostly destroyed buildings is a bit depressing, is it not?
I found this mental picture when thinking about how watching an intimate relationship being intentionally destroyed is so very painful. The "I willingly started this with you but now I desperately want you to abandon me so I'll blow apart what we made, every connection we have, every foundation for your happiness..." behavior that I have seen a few big examples of lately... got me thinking about how unintentional, unaware, or lazy many people seem to be about relationships of all sorts.
I've come up with a new way to think about my own relationships.
Monday, June 6, 2011
I have a joy to share: my horrible inherited problem weed-overgrown flower gardens are about to burst with lilies, are safely harboring some beautiful steadily growing coral portulacas, I see many wild but welcome columbine sprouts - and I have a profusion of opening buds on my peony bush! The hostas are flourishing.... all the various irises I've collected bloomed beautifully this year. :) Does anyone want some lily-of-the-valley? They are beautiful in spring and a nice 8" bed cover but spread tightly through the roots! My rose bed (I planted starts only last year!) has given me a beautiful show.. our basil and chives are both growing well so I am hatching a design for more herbs plus corn and beans along the backyard fence. :D Tomatoes,cukes, peppers and pumpkins are all looking healthy. We have a long way to go but it is finally paying off. You'd think I was a gardener or something. :)
As long as I'm living here I'll be up for any conversation about shade gardening - the majority of the beds are mostly shade or limited to morning and evening light. I have ferns I don't know what to do with, where to put them or how to pair them... they are mercifully growing back in a random manner after I ripped them out as a new resident (a completely invasive weed where I came from :) I want an apple tree or two and am thinking hard about the long 8x80 foot space between the rear of the garage and the back fence.
Happiness. At first I did this because I wanted the neighbors to know I want to be a good neighbor, and a suburban house with wild weed gardens does not seem like a good neighbor... plus I enjoy flowers and they are sometimes cheap to share. Although it is still only an occasional hobby, I can now garden for the joy.
The birds have been chirping beautifully all morning, adding to the delight of discovering that I WIN this weed battle. Happiness.
Monday, April 25, 2011
"Oh yeah? We need to live too, martyrdom only works for a short while before it backfires in self-destructive codependency."
"It's only a whim, you don't know that you won't find something different next week.. it's a trap, don't do it."
"have only what you find to be beautiful or know to be useful" - it accomplishes BOTH, haven't we agreed that is the green light? How much better can it get?"
"Free or very cheap. Trifecta"
"Shut up." "You get what you pay for."
"It isn't what you were looking for."
"It's better, and I can't have what I was looking for, that's not available as such."
"Save for a rainy day. that should provide enough satisfaction to compensate for the loss."
"It's raining already."
In the beginning of my marriage, maybe as far back as the engagement period, I distinctly recall telling my ex that I didn't care how poor we were or how much we did without, that I would be willing to pinch and sacrifice and plan ahead, etc. but there were only 3 things I really wanted to be sure were on the budget: music, the tools necessary to be organized [bins, software, whatever], and travel, [even if only by car and roadside historical signage and camping]. Later I discovered how much of a battle I was up against for financial integrity and within that battle I never gave myself permission to prioritize these three. I have been divorced for two years now. Emerging from my protective survival shell has been marvelous. I am learning again that I am a distinct person of value and that person is still alive.
And that person has battles to fight.
"I want it"
"you don't need it to live"
"What do you call living?"
"Not homeless, for starts"
"God created beauty. He wants me to have it."
"whistling a sad, sad tune"
It's all about this: http://www.tcartermusic.com/products/highland_serenade Music to go on my new MP3 player, the one I found on sale which I carefully researched before purchase and I've wanted one for YEARS to keep me company in my lonely work (and now also my NOT lonely second job, not lonely - too many men who "like my smile" and want to play.. but one earbud is allowed and I think very appropriate to alleviate the otherwise boredom of the job any schmuck could do). Music, one of the three sidelined joys I need to make my world operate smoothly. Music that also reflects the beauty of creation - he has enough of my favorite old glorious tunes on there that I could listen to it for church every Sunday and have a complete religion plus some. But I was looking for Canon in D, that's it.. and I'm a poor single mama.
I'm going to be rich today, richer tomorrow. Joy is a richness of it's own.
"I said shush! You don't know everything! And you exaggerate too!"