Ok, the next time you feel like you get nothing done, remember this post.
This morning I went to coffee with some artsy fartsy friends and got so inspired I made a pass by my local big box fabric store for a few items and then dashed home. Had a quick sandwich and then put my new purchase to soak in the basement bathtub. As I was headed back out to the studio I saw ants invading the hummingbird feeders. I had purchased ant traps for them last year but had forgotten all about it so I had to dig around to find them. While I had the feeders down I might as well clean and refill-right? So as I am washing out the feeders I begin to realize there is water coming up the kitchen drain which is not how it is supposed to work. I pulled everything out from under the sink and unscrewed the trap. Nada. This means that there is a truly evil, smelly clog in the pipe over the dryer in the laundry room (this is not my first rodeo with the kitchen drain needless to say). Then I had the horrifying thought that my husband had gone fishing yesterday and had cleaned fish in the sink. Which means there is probably day old fishy smelling water in the dishwasher. Opened it, yep, there sure is, and slammed it shut. Mr. Man was sleeping to recover from said fishing trip but I woke him up to ask if he wished to help unclog it (two person job-somebody has to hold a bucket while the other person snakes the pipe) or call a plumber. Naturally when someone awakens you from a sound sleep to ask if you would like to have sewage rain down on you the answer should always be to call a plumber.
At three in the afternoon on Friday there are no plumbers available. Anywhere. The ones that are willing to show up at five in the afternoon want several hundred dollars. Or to make an appointment for next Tuesday. Did I mention fish water in the dishwasher? Oh, yes I did, but I probably failed to mention 85 degrees on Sunday. So, no thank you, I will figure it out.
Without raising my voice I made it clear that while several hundred for a plumber may seem high, it is lower than spending the weekend plus Monday and Tuesday at a hotel. He dashes (ok, saunters) out to the barn to bring in a bucket and proper tools and we head to the basement. Clog removed, dishwasher running to get rid of stink, mission accomplished. Oh, and hummingbird feeders cleaned and rehung with ant traps. It was about four by then, but I decided it was wine-thirty and the day is done. I will fix our dinner, enjoy my yard, and be grateful that Mr. Man is doing well enough to help with the clogged pipes which would have been unthinkable even a few months ago. It can all change so quickly.
|Meet the newest porch cat, name to be determined. I think Buddha may be appropriate, as every time I am sitting on the deck worrying about something, the little beast brings me back into the present moment by biting my ankles. Kind of like the person at a Zen retreat that smacks you with a stick for slouching during meditation.|