Adventures in Plumbing

Yesterday Maggie and Wesley came over and while Henry was in school we ran some errands. While we were out I bought a couple of perennials for the front of the house. They're blue and smell nice and for the life of me I can't remember what they're called. Anyway, now that Henry's busily occupied in school and I finally have some free time and energy, I've started trying to get our yard in better shape. For some reason, all the bushes on the right side of the house have died off, one at a time, over the last six years. This year, after removing the last dead bush, I planted a couple of hydrangeas and am hoping they will live long enough to at least flower one day. Maggie and I put in the perennials and then we dug up some errant hostas and replanted them over where the dead bush used to be. Earlier I planted some flower and herb seeds, but Wesley ran across the flower bed with a rake, so now I have very little hope of success on that front. I guess we'll just have to wait and see how things turn out.

Today I was feeling productive and decided it was time to fix the leaky bathroom sink. Ben grumbled and moaned but I got him into the spirit of things. We went to the home improvement store and picked up a new drain pipe/sink stopper combo and returned home to get to work. Demolition of the drain pipe was interesting. Ben unscrewed the pipes and then uttered some horrified gibberish and sent me for a bucket. The smells that emanated from the bathroom were unpleasant much in the same way sewer gas or rotting animal carcasses are unpleasant. The culprit appeared to be a big hunk of mold in the pipe. I spent a good ten minutes scrubbing slimy black mold off the sink while Ben cleaned the pipe out with the garden hose outside.

All I had plans for was repairing the drain, but Ben wanted to fix the leaky faucet while we were at it. In the process of removing some vital part of the faucet, he managed to bend it, so we were going to have to replace the entire plastic ball chunk (I have no idea what that part is called). So we Lysoled the bathroom and left it to air out while we went looking for sink parts. Unfortunately, the faucet was some ancient twenty-year-old off-brand job, so there was nothing at either Lowe's or Home Depot we could use. That meant we had to buy a new faucet. Ben picked out a cheap replacement and I suggested we get some new hoses to hook up the hot and cold water, but Ben thought we could use the old copper hook ups. When we got back home and got the old faucet off, we found out the old pipes were soldered on. So I went back out for the hoses. Together Ben and I swapped out the faucets and with minimal rage fits got the stopper and drain all fixed. Then when we tested everything, the drain started leaking.

While Ben was busy getting ticked off I asked him, "You didn't put teflon tape on the pipe like I said, did you?"

Ben took the drain apart again and taped the pipe thread, put everything back together and it worked beautifully.

The finished product:


It's nice to know that even though Ben and I tend to screw some things up and get angry and yell before things get properly repaired, at least we've learned enough so that next time something breaks we'll know how to fix it with slightly less mistakes and yelling.

I'm thinking the next thing to break will probably be the dishwasher. That'll be a real adventure, I'm sure.

Reemerging from the Chrysalis

If said chrysalis were a comforter on the couch, then yeah. Finally I'm feeling better after a bout with clogged sinuses and a pesky cough.

This past weekend Henry and I went to visit family. Ben stayed home because he was sick. We went to Mom and Dad's first to spend the night.

For a while Mom and Dad have been sans pets, which made their house seem weird and a little lonely to me. Then this winter a sickly half-grown kitten showed up at their door, so Mom took pity on it and took it to the vet. At the vet's the receptionist asked the cat's name.

Dad replied, "Dumb ugly cat." Dad's not one for harboring any feline affection.

Dumb Ugly Cat (Mom calls her Kitty) is one of those tortoiseshell cats, the kind that look like what would happen if you inadvertently washed a load of clothes with three or four different colored tabby cats. She's cute in a hideous way, but her ugliness is more than eclipsed by an affectionate nature. Anyway, when they first got her she had to stay inside because she was sick. When we came on Saturday I was surprised that she still had free run of the house. I thought maybe Dad was getting soft in his old age, but it turns out that Dad's new dog, Red, thinks Dumb Ugly Cat would make a nice snack and has to be chained if the cat is outside.

Saturday the weather was so nice that Henry and I decided to talk a walk on the trail through the woods. Accompanying us was Red. This was our first time meeting Red. If I didn't think Dad would miss him terribly and Ben would kill me, I'd have seriously considered taking him home with me. I'm a sucker for big floppy eared hunting dogs, and Red is a cheerful, laid back guy that didn't jump on me, lick my face, or bark like mad when we arrived (like a certain mutt in residence at Meemaw and Peepaw's house). After we got nice and muddy on our walk (the ground was saturated from the rain) I took Henry for a ride in one of the kayaks. Red really wanted to come, too, but he settled for running around the pond. It really surprised me that he didn't go after the ducks. I guess cats look more appetizing, or at least easier to catch.

That night since my nieces were staying the night, Henry and I shared a bed. Henry's a bed hog and a snuggler, so I got maybe four hours of uninterupted sleep. And woke up with a cold. Dad made us breakfast and Maggie called and asked if I was still coming to church with her in in Greensboro. It was eight and her church starts at nine, I was still unbathed and half through with breakfast, but I said okay. I didn't exactly rush to get ready, but I knew Maggie was going to be late, too. I neglected to bring church shoes, so instead of wearing my sneakers, I borrowed a pair of shoes from Mom. I tried on a pair of brown Mary Janes and Dad commented that they looked like something I'd wear (I suspect he hates those shoes) and so I traded them for something I'd never wear, a pair of black high heeled zip up boots. "For the shock value," I told him.

We only arrived forty five minutes late for church, just in time to hear the last speaker, because I took a wrong highway and had to back track, had to take a detour because of a closed exit ramp, went the wrong way on a street, and missed a turn and had to circle back. The whole time Henry kept encouraging me to go the wrong way because he didn't want to go to church. When we took our place next to Maggie (me strutting like a drunk hooker in those boots), she told me she'd only gotten there fifteen minutes before. I like Maggie's church because there's this old guy there who, when Maggie and I were probably fifteen or so, went on a hike with a bunch of us on an overnight hike to Uwharrie National Forest. At the campsite we'd gone to the neighboring creek and caught a few crayfish. He still remembers that day like it was yesterday and always remembers me and asks if I've caught any crawdads lately. I love that guy.

After church I helped Maggie make Wesley's birthday cake. He turned two that day and Maggie wanted his cake to be cool. She's a lot more ambitious than me. Luckily she'd already baked the cake and cut it such that it reasonably resembled the shape of a fish. The icing didn't turn out quite the right shade of orange, and because it was really moist, composed of pudding and whipped cream, the black icing we used bled a little. Well, honestly it looked like Nemo got bleached at the water treatment plant and bled from the eyes. Maggie said he was crying because he missed his dad. The cake tasted fine though. Mom and Dad, Beth and her kids, Avdo's family and a bunch of other people came over and we all ate and had a good time. Because I'd never had any before, I decided to try a piece of Bosnian smoked cheese. And because I'm a jerk, I made Mom try a piece, too. Well, I didn't make her, I just pestered her until she gave in. Since my nose was clogged, I'm not sure I got the full effect, but there was no mistaking the dominant flavor.

"Tastes like a campfire," I said. It really did. The cheese itself was firm and dry, a little crumbly, but all I could taste was the smoke. And I tasted the smoke for a long while after. Mom did, too. I don't think she's going to take any of my suggestions from now on. That reminds me, I got her a copy of Hunger Games for Christmas. I bet she never reads it now.

I'm Liking the Warm Weather, But it Makes Me Stupid

Saturday was a warm lazy day. Ben wasn't feeling great so I took Henry with me to get the oil changed in Ben's car. I think there's some kind of weird correlation between good weather and Ben feeling ill, because he always seems sick when it's nice out, never when it's rainy. Anyway, we went to the Chick-Fil-A to grab lunch and kill time while the car was in the shop. Henry wolfed down his nuggets and hurried to the playroom. I sat in there to watch him play. The playroom has this big playhouse thing with tiered platforms leading up to little rooms and slides and stuff. Henry really likes it but he's got a little bit of a fear of heights, so getting the courage to climb up to the slide takes him a while sometimes. The last time he had no problems, but this time he'd regressed somewhat and wouldn't go up past the third "step," spending a lot of time mostly running around and watching other kids go up. He was nervous about the stability of the structure, but I helped him understand that it was very sturdy and that he couldn't possibly fall off. I gently encouraged him to try one step at a time, to see if he could get up to the fourth step and gradually he made it up to the slide level. He wouldn't go any higher to the rooms on top, but he went up to the slide again and again. He counted each time he went up and was very pleased when he'd done it ten times. After a while some more kids came in to play, including a little girl who was afraid to climb up the platforms. Henry very sweetly told her that he'd been afraid, too, but he wasn't anymore and offered to help her up. She need more convincing that Henry could give, but I thought it was nice of him anyway.

I like seeing Henry's personal successes. A couple weekends ago he went to a friend's birthday party at a community center. All the kids were given plastic kites and Henry really wanted to fly his. With very minimal help from me, he assembled the kite and took off with it. Moments later I was very surprised to see him running around the circumference of the room, his kite flying high about an inch below the ceiling, the long red tails rippling behind. He had such a happy, triumphant look on his face that I just sat there and grinned.

Yesterday Ben sloughed work (he took a personal day) because he was tired and not feeling well. I let him sleep in and went quietly (as quietly as I could anyway) about my day. He got up around noon and I made us some grilled cheese sandwiches. After lunch we went for a nice long walk through the neighborhood. It was a warm sunny day and it was really nice to have some time alone with Ben. I enjoyed the warm weather so much that after Henry got home from school I took him to the park. We were about halfway to our destination before I noticed that Henry had forgotten his helmet. Oh, well. A little extra precaution ensured that he didn't fall off and split his head open. At the park Henry ditched his bike with me and went to make some new friends. We finished the day with a family outing to the library and that night Henry read one of my all time favorites, Bears in the Night.

Today was another beautiful day. I cheerfully sent Henry off on the bus and then went over to his school to do some busy work. Said busy work included cutting different shapes out of colored paper. I eventually got the die cutter to work and got some hexagons made, finished some little rectangles, and was moving on to big rectangles, when my happy spring-feverish brain drifted off to stupidville. I was rearranging the paper on the paper cutter and switched hands to hold up the cutting blade, when I noticed somewhat belatedly that I'd grabbed the blade arm not by the handle, but by the blade itself. Whoops. The blade slid right through the skin between my thumb and forefinger. It was with some disgust and shock that I noticed that I could see all the way through the severed flap of skin to the tissue below and decided it might benefit me to see a doctor, for just in case. Luckily there was someone there today who had some bandaids in her purse and the school nurse hooked me up with some gauze, an icepack and a latex glove so I wouldn't bleed all over my car. Not that the cut was spouting blood or anything. It just looked really nasty, and to my chagrin, nauseating to me. The school nurse had me sit for a little bit "until I got some color in my face." I think I'm usually white as death anyway, but the thought of me fainting over so trivial an injury amused me. I drove myself down to a walk in clinic, pleased that my old gas-guzzling grandpa-mobile really came in handy, no pun intended, since because it's an automatic, I didn't have any trouble driving with one hand. I did have to wait seemingly forever and a day, though, before my hand was inspected and taped up. As a precaution I got a tetanus shot as well.

And now, though I really want to go outside and ready the flower beds, I've got to stay inside and keep my hand clean and dry.

Happy Birthday, Dr. Seuss

Today, even though it was cold and damp and perfect for staying inside wrapped in a fuzzy blanket reading a book, I decided to go volunteer at Henry's school. I like that the school is nice and warm. Ben likes to keep our house at 67. Brr. I'd like him to keep it at 67 in the summer, but no such luck. So I stayed warm while I cut out laminated stuff. Then because I ran out of stuff to do and it was only nine, I went over to the media center and shelved two carts of books. Little did I know that this little act of extra effort would result in me idiotically freezing my butt off.

Usually I shelve books on Wednesdays. But today is Tuesday. So when I got home I thought it was Wednesday. On Wednesdays school lets out an hour early, for the teachers to plan stuff, apparently. Anyway, that wouldn't have made a difference in the world, except that Henry had a substitute bus driver this morning. Henry's regular bus driver drops him off in front of the house in the afternoons. The sub drops him off at the bus stop down the street. So, me thinking it's Wednesday, I went out to the bus stop and stood in the rain/snow/sleet windfest and waited almost twenty minutes before my stupid brain bought a clue. An hour later I was back out there, but I only had to wait ten minutes before the bus finally showed up.

It's pretty lame when all I have to blog about is pertaining to me being not smart.

So I'll mention that it's Dr. Seuss' birthday. Henry's favorite Dr. Seuss book is Green Eggs and Ham. I like Fox in Socks, just for the part about the Tweedle Beetle Battle. I like the evil sadistic look on their faces when they sock each other with paddles. After Fox in Socks it's definitely the Sleep Book.

Now I think I'm ready for a nap, buried under a pile of warm blankets.