The little doohickey at the bottom of my toilet tank, sadly reached the end of its planned obsolescent life.
Water trickled in perpetuity from under the rim between flushes. That wasn’t supposed to happen.
An inspection, revealed the flush valve, was also on the critical list. It appeared to be drooling from the top, when flushed.
High ho, high ho, off to the big-box home improvement store. What would I encounter there?
More needlessly complex parts, when all I wanted was the same as what came off–only newer and operational?
“For a mere 79.95. the next-generation, Flap-O-Matic, smart flapper, with digital readouts, water usage monitoring, and notification to your smart phone, in the unlikely event that anything would go wrong. Guaranteed for two years.”
No thanks, I’ll take this one for 15.99, that looks just like the old
one.” Everything replaced at home–the KISS method worked once more.
Saturday Night’s All Right For Fighting. Another Saturday night and I ain’t got nobody. There are a lot more songs about Saturday.
Except it’s still Friday, at this writing. No use lamenting Saturday in advance.
I have to save my strength for tomorrow’s monthly trip to the warehouse discount store. If nothing else, it affords ample opportunities for people watching and group dynamics.
There may indeed be some sad Saturday night sentimentality, after a few dozen trips up and down the aisles, then waiting in long checkout lines.
Got my new glasses Friday. Seeing clearly, once again, was a good thing. Those that followed this blog knew I broke them Saturday, a week ago.
It’s gone from summer to fall, and back again to summer, in one short week. Influenced by those crazy nuts–Harvey and Irma.
Anyone with pets will attest to the difficulties of vacuuming pet hair. Our old vacuum succumbed, and the replacement was put to the test.
Due to our long-haired pooch, it wasn’t long before the beater bar on the new machine was wrapped with hair. Some of this could be blamed on the old machine’s failures–the new one working twice as hard.
All things considered, I wouldn’t want to be like Bill Murray in “Ground Hog Day,” and relive this week again.
County schools opened today. Kids lined up for yellow buses everywhere. It seemed too early–weather was still too hot for school.
Did teachers ask students to write compositions about what they did on summer vacation, to then be read aloud in front of the class? I dreaded every new school year because of this.
Of course, the other elephant in the room, was the eclipse. Compared to drama in other parts of the country, it was a non-event here. The sun went in-and-out of clouds so much, it was hard to tell what was eclipse, and what wasn’t.
What had I done on summer vacation? The question answered with shoulder shrugs and general indifference. There were some things one didn’t ‘fess up to.
The truth was–I went to the creek with my brother. Skipped rocks and committed numerous infractions. Going to the creek was forbidden. Skipped vespers at church camp with a partner-in-crime. Sworn to secrecy. I could have been excommunicated; or something worse if my parents found out.
The day started as usual. When I returned from walking the dogs at seven this morning, the doors to the sunroom were closed.
A bad sign; the thermostat near the A/C read nearly 80 degrees. Our patched-together HVAC unit bit the dust. After mowing and trimming the lawn, we holed up in the sunroom–which had its own HVAC system.
Technicians worked till around 3:30 in the afternoon. All turned out well in the end–although a few dollars poorer. Chalked up as another chapter in the joys of home ownership.
My wife’s birthday and pool party are just a pleasant memory.
The long road trip back home looms ahead.
Much ground covered and friendships cemented. It will be good to be home after two-and-a-half weeks.
I’m pictured hanging out with the guys in the shade–to the extreme left in the yellow shirt.
Away from home
While missing home
Tropical uncertainties traded
For low humidity, blue skies
Free room and board
Boring road food
Some of it was acting
Acting, for the benefit
Of those in attendance
Buddy Holly tribute eyewear
In fashion–without thought
Given to rockabilly legends
Some left to make room
for those, yet to come
Rested, never knowing
Their promised lands
Mere words unimportant
Sticks and stones