Possumblog

What am I doing here!?

No orthodontist appointment this morning for Oldest! Yay!

I only wish now that I could curl up under my desk and go to sleep. But I can't.

IN OTHER NEWS, the weekend was full of non-recreation and fitful sleep! Got our bids in Friday on our new addition at church, and they're still higher than what we wanted, so we've got some rasslin' to do with everyone about that. Caterer? Had to go see her at 7:30 Friday night with Reba, and stayed around there until nearly 9:00.

Saturday was spent poring over the various bid packages and typing up a tabulation while doing laundry. Reba took the girls shopping so any excess money we might have had was disposed of as expeditiously as possible. Boy and I later on went to get some late lunch and go to the store for him to dispose of a little more of his Christmas money from various relatives. And I finally found some cedar blocks at Bed, Bath and Beyonce, so let me tell Dave Helton to stop sawing up that big old stump of his right now.

Also made a stop at the grocery store to pick up some sugar-free sweet tea. I realize such a concoction might be anathema maranatha to true devotees of Southern sweet tea, but I know I sure do like it, and we seem to go through about fifty gallons of it a day.

Home again, more laundry, Boy took his bath, waited for the return of the girls. And waited. They'd left around 3:30 or so, and I expected them to be back before dark. As if. 'Silly daddy.' Silly husband!

Anyway, Jonathan got out of the tub and we watched some television and he mentioned that the tub was leaking. "You know, where the water comes out of the wall?" Hmm. Well, it's actually been dribbling for a while, but I just tell them to close the drain plug and they've got a good start for baths the next night.

I walked into the bathroom and rather than a dripply drip ever ten seconds or so, there was a constant dripdripdripdripdripdrip. Hmm. After I stopped to relieve myself (such was the strength of the visual and audible water cues), I grabbed the big single Dagwood-button knob in the middle of the wall and tried to see if there was any position I could move it so that the dribbling stopped.

Nope. In fact, the last little "hmphr" I used to move it in and around made it start flowing as if it wasn't leaking, but was actually being used to run water. Uh-oh. Unscrewed the knob, took off the cover plate, turned off the valves, pulled the valve. Yep.

Those two little rubber cups that fit in the end of the valve were stuck down and wouldn't offer the springy rubberiness needed to fully close the flow. And this was discovered at 7:40 at night. A quick call to the hardware store at the foot of the hill confirmed that they were still open, so I got Boy to throw on some more clothes and we sped off in search of rubber grommetry.

Got there, found my parts, paid, back home, and for once Jonathan was actually interested in helping me, so I showed him the pipes in the wall and the valve and the rubber grommets and plugged it all back in while he handed me various tools.

Taaa-daaa.

Success!

Buttoned it back up, put the tools away, and the girls finally got home at nearly 8:30. I looked at the stuff they'd purchased, but by this time I was about tuckered out, so after we ate (they'd stopped to pick up some barbecue for supper--mmm--piggy!) they went on and got cleaned up, I folded a few more clothes, and then collapsed in the bed.

Sunday, had to take separate cars because my whole afternoon was meetings. After morning worship, there was the teenage devotional at someone's house, so we all went to that, then I had a meeting at 2:30, 3:30, 4:30, and a brief one at 6:05 which is five minutes after evening services started. That was a lot of jabbering.

Supper, then home, where there was yet more laundry to fold, and more sleep to not get. Meaning, I missed the entirety of the Oscars.

It makes me want to weep that I was not able to see the most socially conscious group of human beings ever to walk the face of planet Earth engage in the social consciousness of a most overwhelmingly conscious sort, and do it socially, and to be able then to watch them as they congratulate themselves for being on such a higher plain of existence. And yes, I'm speaking of George Clooney's fatuous little speech about how forward thinking the Academy was by awarding Hattie McDaniel and Oscar in 1939. Not mentioning it would be 24 more years before another black person got another one. And then 19 more after that before another black person got one. There's only 18 in all. Not really much to hang your hat on there, George.

Twit.

Anyway, I got a raft of junk to do today, as in weeks past, so bear with me as I try to clear some of it away.

Posted by Terry Oglesby at March 6, 2006 09:13 AM