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Searching For An Untroubled Plumber

Thursday, September 12th, 2013

The Sink That Started The Frantic Search

Here’s why I need a plumber.

Bill’s car died and has to be hauled off to a Car Cemetery.

Bill tripped over his feet and fell flat with a thud on the patio. I thought the thud was his head, but it turns out it’s his elbow which is black and blue. He smarts in many places but the good thing is his back was hurting for 3 months and now that pain is gone. We think the fall gave him an adjustment.

The drain in Bill’s kitchen sink is plugged up clear to the back wall and we need a plumber.

So. Now I am Bill’s chauffeur and he has to wash his many dishes in my sink, in my house. However, the body wreckage he’s suffered doesn’t affect me thank goodness, as I have my own.

Our first order is to find a plumber. The car burial can come later.

The plumber I always use is not returning my calls. I believe he has run off. My guts say his wife left him. I am sorry about that, but I can’t fix him and obviously, he’s not emotionally able to drain Bill’s sink and clear the pipes. He may be drunk some where, I don’t know.

Bill gets out the town’s yellow pages and begins the hunt for a good plumber.

As I am his landlordess, I give him instructions.

“Get the Senior Rate. Get a plumber who doesn’t charge to come out and look. Ask me before you choose one as I have lived in this town a long time and know a lot of people.”

Bill doesn’t want my instruction. He curls his lips and gets to work. From the other side of the door I hear him drop the yellow pages and turn to his computer. He’s making calls in his Studio. These darn walls are way too thin.

My brother Jim comes over to nap on my living room couch. (Oh come on now, I haven’t time to explain that one. I’m trying to tell you about looking for a plumber.)

Bill raps on the door between his studio and my house. He comes into my Great Room and says, “Hi Jim. OK. This guy I called will do the drain for $80 and he’s asking questions about the leak in your tub faucet and what else you want done.”

“Who is he?” I ask.

“What does it matter who he is?!”

“I may know him,” I say.

Bill turns and goes into his place and I follow.

“It’s Dan Donovan Plumbing, if you must know,” he says.

“Not him!” I yell.

“Why?”

“I can’t remember why. I just know I have a down feeling about it, some memory in the past.”

Bill snorts.

Then, I notice he’s on the phone.

“Ah..I’ll call you back,” he says and hangs up.

Darn. Why didn’t he tell me he was talking to the man?

“You can always do this yourself you know!” Bill snarls.

He gets all irritated and comes back into my house with the phone book.

Jim shouts from the couch, “Who? Dan Donovan!? He ripped me off! He charged me an extra hundred dollars and then left shit everywhere in my place! ”

“Oh,” Bill says as he turns around and goes back into his studio. (more…)

How Embarrassing

Wednesday, September 4th, 2013

The Watermelon In The Compost Pile

Yippee! There’s a volunteer watermelon growing in the compost pile! The fruit is round, it’s big and green and gorgeous.

There’s a family party at my house today on Labor Day and Bill and I can’t wait to show the melon to our large family. We’ve been talking to each other about this lucky melon for days. Won’t people be surprised and envious?!

The family includes my Great Aunt Ruby and three of my 3rd cousins who I don’t know well. We’ll show them how great country living can be! Melons growing like gold in the garbage dump out back!

In fact, everyone will be impressed when we drag all 30 people out to see our prize. And then…and then, we will pick it... and bring it around to the front of the house. Then, with Ceremony we will cut it up and all of us will eat watermelon for Labor Day!

Here’s what really happens:

(more…)

The Underpants

Wednesday, August 28th, 2013

We’ll Talk About This Photo In A Minute…But First, The UnderPants.

A woman friend comes to my house for tea and company.

She bakes and brings fresh scones with strawberry jam and clobbered cream. The scones are flat when they should be fluffy. They look like flat, pale cookies.

My friend complains her scones are a failure, but in fact they are delicious. In my mind I call them ‘Sccookies’. The word Scone with Cookies. Very cleaver of me.

Maybe we can bake and build a Twinkies kind of mega-corporation off my friend’s Sccookies? Maybe we can become rich and pudgy off our own brilliance?

No, we are not drinking.

My friend wants to swim in my pool in her underpants and tee shirt.

“Good idea,” I say, about the swimming in panties.

I want to swim, too so I run in the house, put on a hot pink sports bra and pull on a pair of neon green nylon shorts. Pulling those shorts up and on is hard work. I have gained weight since last summer.

Finally, the shorts are up, but eeeh gads, they are inside out! They look even worse than they might if they were on proper.

However, they are too much trouble to peel down and re-do as they are so tight I will never get them off. I will have to wear them inside out.

I usually swim naked. I know you know that.

I am always getting into unexpected trouble while naked in the pool. There was that time I heard my old, deaf pool man coming through my iron gate and I banged out of the water so fast that I had to go and see a chiropractor for a twisted back.  (more…)


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