That is a ridiculously long title, but a fitting one!
When I last left you, I believe that Hubby was riding atop the gazebo as it was being moved to its new permanent place. I guess he wanted to get the bird's eye view of our estate.
Anyway, his next crucial job was to work on plumbing, so that I would have a place to wash the dishes, which for now is in the basement utility sink. (Every day is like camping! I wish I liked camping.) Plumbing has never been a joyful experience. It usually consists of a lot of frustration and @#$% and *&^%$^&*% and other various and asundry words. At the outset of a plumbing project, he tries very hard not to swear, and some of his phrases can be quite comical, but as time goes on and drips keep appearing, and he has to re-do the process, the words flow quite profusely. So, as the plumbing time grew nearer, I did what any wife would do, I started praying, and stayed as far away as I could from the plumbing area. He worked. I prayed. He worked some more. I prayed. It seemed very quiet in the basement. I thought about going down to see how things were progressing, but thought better of it. Better to leave well enough alone. Finally, the moment we had been dreading waiting for arrived. Hubby came upstairs and announced that it was time to pray, because he was going to turn on the water and see if he had to re-do the whole thing. "Not to worry", I said, "I've been praying." Then I uttered a last, desperate plea.
He turned on the water.
I waited for the spewing of words, signaling the dreaded "drip".
It was quiet.
I waited some more.
Still quiet.
Finally, Hubby came upstairs, announcing, "I can't believe it! The first time in my ENTIRE LIFE that I haven't had a drip!" He was quite pleased with himself, and I uttered a prayer of thanks, and gave Hubby a congratulatory hug.
So, now I am able to lug all our dirty dishes down to the basement, wash them and bring them back up.
In case you are wondering, we have been using styrofoam plates, and "red solo cup!" and plastic forks. But, the only thing we burn (yay! we live in the country, so we can burn our trash) is the plates. The cups and forks are too nice to throw away! Crazy isn't it? Oh, and there's also the pots and pans that need washed.
Someday, maybe next week, I will have my kitchen all put back together. Hubby is currently in Florida for a few days visiting his H.S. friend and best man. He's on Hospice, due to hardening of the lungs - I can't remember the actual name of it - but, death comes from suffocation. It's a terrible way to go. There are some things more important than a kitchen sink.
Also, while Hubby was gone, we had a big rain storm. Before he left, he said to me, "Make sure you listen for the sump pump, that it keeps running." So the next morning when I awoke, I was happy to hear the sump pump running. I didn't worry, nor did I go down to check the basement. However, when Amazing Daughter went down to shower, she informed me that we did indeed have water in the basement.
Thankfully, due to the first flooding, we made sure that everything in the basement was put on a shelf, and anything on the floor was in plastic tubs. We have a solid and quality built home, but there is one thing that wasn't done correctly. And, that is the basement floor. It wasn't made to drain into to sump pump. No. It's higher in the middle, so all the water goes to the side opposite the sump pump. I spent most of the morning sweeping the water to the sump pump area, only to have it continually coming back. I felt like the widow whose oil container never emptied. (l Kings 17:12-16) After the first hour, I decided to go down every hour and sweep away, and finally, after several sweepings, I decided to take a longer break and go bra shopping.
(Due to losing 40 pounds, my cups no longer runneth over, and in fact, there's quite a bit of wiggle room. And, when I say "wiggle", I mean, ohhh, that might be too much information....Never mind.)
That little adventure took a good three hours, because first I had to figure out my new size, then I had to find that size on the 70% off rack at Kohl's. Compared to my old size, the new size looks like a training bra! But, at least I no longer have to worry about the dreaded "gap". It is kind of weird to button a blouse without having to pull and tug.
Well, that has been my week in a nutshell. Now, I must get back to the fun-filled job of unpacking and putting away of "stuff".
I have a little secret.
I also have issues. Or, maybe I just have a computer that hates me. I've been fighting with my computer since my last blog. Actually, it started with the blog you were not able to read, because I accidently deleted it! ARRRRGGGGGG. I was minutes away from finishing it. Just had to make one little adjustment. It was all because that dumb mouse was not cooperating. It didn't go where I wanted it to, it highlighted too much stuff. I suspected the little ball needed cleaning out, but I couldn't figure out how to get it out of the mouse. (I know I've just given you too much information about how my brain functions. Don't judge me too harshly!) Anyway, losing my blog made me lose my blogging mojo, and it has taken me all this time to get it back. At least, I hope it's back. Then, yesterday, as I sat down to check my email blog, the computer froze up. I pushed all the buttons I thought needing pushing. I pulled out wires I thought needed pulling, but to no avail. When Hubby called that night, I told him the problem. "Just unplug it. That should do the trick." Yep, that took care of the problem. Now why didn't I think of that??
Now, back to my secret. This past weekend, daughter Jennee, told me we would be going to a Victoria Secrets VIP after hours shopping trip. OK. That sounds like fun. I need a few things.
We walked in, showed them our invitations (that were printed off the computer), and our ID, so we could be entered into the raffle drawings.
My number was 40; Jennee's number was 41.
We entered the store, and the sales girls were all decked out. (Hubby asked if they were modeling underwear. No. They were not.) The new color of lipstick must be fire engine/neon red, because they were all wearing the same color. Their lips came into the room five minutes before the rest of them. (I'm sorry to report that most of them looked ridiculous.) Some of the girls had a big trayful of cookies, which they begged us to eat. Others had trays of little water bottles, complete with a lovely photo of a model wearing a bra. The male MC was making announcements that free bra sizings were available (aren't they always free?), and reminding us that we should be measured every six months to be sure we are wearing the correct bra size. That was a little weird.
The drawings were to be every 15 minutes. The number for the first drawing was 42! Darn! So close! The number for the second drawing was 39! Darn, again! The numbers were dancing all around us.
We finished our shopping and decided to hang around for a few more drawings. As I was looking at the makeup, a lady came up to me and asked if I would be hanging around for a while. I answered, "Yes, probably." "Well, then, here, you can have my ticket. I'm leaving." (Yay! Thanks!)
I decided to put ticket #40 in my left pocket, and ticket #77 in my right pocket. I couldn't be seen fumbling around with two tickets in case I won. The trick was to remember which number was in which pocket. And, with my memory, that's asking a lot!
Two more drawings came and went, with the numbers not being close at all to our numbers. Finally, we were getting bored. I mean, how long can you keep wandering around looking at the same underwear over and over? We decided to stay for one more drawing.
The time came. The number was called. "Seventy-seven". "Whoo hoo", I heard myself yell. Then immediately had to stop and think which pocket contained the correct ticket. Luckily, I guessed correctly and went over to claim my prize.
"You've won this lovely tote bag, which is a $50 value, and a makeup bag, a $10 value."
"Great, thanks", I said as I started looking over the tote bag, and wondering where I would use it. The bag is nice, but it is covered with black and white photos of the models. Maybe it's just me, but the last thing I want to carry around is a bag covered with photos of scantily-clad perfect-bodied women. (I suspect my male readers may have a different perspective.)
But, a plan was forming in my mind. Since the bag is black and white, I decided to dress the models myself, with my handy-dandy black marker. I felt like I was getting to know these girls pretty well. I finished with one photo, turned the bag around, and said, "Not you again!" , and colored some more. Luckily, I had a big supply of black markers. Jennee says I've ruined the bag. I don't think so, because now I can actually take it out in public.
