Grancey

It’s been a nice close-to-Christmas day here in Alabama. The exterminator showed up early this morning. He’s new. “Johnny” was our former exterminator. Johnny was polite. Johnny would call the night before to let us know he was coming by. But this new guy (don’t know his name yet) just shows up, rings the doorbell and gets to work. The dogs start barking and let me know he is here. We will adjust to this “new guy”.

We had a Christmas gift mail delivery today also. I heard a car door shut, and I looked outside and saw the UPS gentleman approaching the door with a package. The packages I have ordered are not being delivered by UPS, so I knew this was probably a package that my husband had ordered. Therefore, it was probably a package for me. The young man rang the doorbell and immediately started back to his vehicle, a red pick-up truck. I thought that they must be so busy that UPS workers are using private vehicles now? I opened the door and saw that the package had been placed at the side of the door, and the young man had moved one of our small wooden deer that stands on the front porch and had carefully placed the deer in front of the package, probably to obscure the presence of a package sitting outside. How nice and thoughtful of that young man. I brought the package inside and seeing that it was indeed addressed to my husband, I placed it on the desk without examining it further, not wanting to possibly spoil any Christmas surprises for me.

Last night my husband and I were shopping, and I found some Christmas cards that I adored. I was hesitant to make an unnecessary purchase, but my husband encouraged me to go ahead and buy the cards. He said we would pack them away very carefully, and I would have them for next year. Today, I was looking at the cards, and not wanting to wait for next year. I sent out more cards to other friends and relatives who I thought might appreciate a little Christmas cheer.

Later in the afternoon the dogs and I ventured into the cold, windy winter afternoon. The two of them scurried about like our friendly rabbits, Dustin Hoppman and Dennis Hopper, who live and play in our yard. I was selecting magnolia leaves for a new wreath, when I looked up and saw a neighbor pushing a baby buggy down the sidewalk with a large dog in attendance. One of my poodles started to growl, so I herded them together next to me, and held one of them by the collar as the neighbor began to walk by. She must have noticed my predicament, for when I looked up I saw that she had moved off of the sidewalk to the other side of the street. I apologized to her for the rude behavior of my two little ones. She waved and responded with, “That’s okay. I have three of them”. How nice of this woman, I thought. She doesn’t even know me, but she wanted to help. My two quickly finished their business and we went back inside, not wanting to lollygag on such a blustery day.

I turned the lights on the Christmas tree, not wanting to wait until dark. It’s nice and warm to have the lights on when I walk into the room. My cats were up to their normal antics, chasing each other up and down the upstairs hallway, sounding more like horses just out of the starting gate, than two furry frisky felines. The kitchen was chilly, so I turned on the gas heater and decided to prepare a small lunch. I chose my easy crunchy peanut butter on light bread with a sliced banana on the side. My husband compares this to prison food, but I think it is perfect. With my lunch and a diet Pepsi in hand, I went through the house stopping to check the batteries in the mantle garland and in the wreath on the door. Noticing that both sets of batteries needed recharging, I made a mental note to tell my husband when he came home. He is very good at recharging batteries.

Our house was full this past weekend with family together for birthdays and Christmas. It’s nice to see everybody, but sometimes you reach a point………… Since time with family was spent displaying my smile to the unruly children and the pets they insist on bringing which necessitates my securing my two pouty felines in the bedroom and away from their runway, I had not had a chance to peruse TFP in the last few days. The house was warming up, and I was feeling toasty, so I snagged a bite of Tipsy cake and sat down for some nonsensical entertainment.

I made a post about Christmas parties and, then I wandered to my favorite, Nonsense. Participating in these games is fun, but scrolling through and catching a glimmer of someone’s train of thought is even more fun at times. Thinking about “leftist productive thought” and listening to the cat purring behind my head, it happened. As they and others say at times…..All Hell Broke Loose.

CLANG…CLANG…CLANG….CLANG….CLANG…CLANNNNNNNGG…..BUMMA GOO BUMMA GOO CHICHA BA CHICHA BA ROODA ROODA ROODA ROODA ROODA ROODA ROODA WAHHHHNNNNNNNNNNN

It was quite obvious to me that either a 273 pound squirrel was playing Tarzan or a fully equipped armored vehicle with a cracked engine block was coming down the street. And then it got quiet, for just a teasingly minute second. Then it happened. The squirrel or the residents of the busted hummer had all at the same time or it sounded, turned on every faucet in the house. The dogs, by this time, were in yippy yip yip heaven, and the cats were back in the bag. I jumped up and ran to the middle of the house……it sounded like a waterfall, somewhere…….Downstairs to the laundry room….more rushing water noise….nothing. Bravely into the depths of the garage…..nothing. I stopped, listening for a clue. Where, oh where could this waterfall be. Back upstairs into the kitchen. The dogs looked at me accusingly. Yeah, right. The neighborhood was so quiet that moment except for the sound of the water. I opened the kitchen door, and then it hit me, sort of. The water was pouring out of a pipe running under the deck.

My brother, handy type person that he is, had constructed a series of pipes running under the deck to make it easier to water the plants. This construction consists of 5 faucets in different locations. The first faucet when turned, located directly above the waterfall, made no impact. It must be in back. I hurried down the wooden steps, typically slippery when iced over, as fast as I could and headed for the back of the house wondering if my neighbor was watching the show out her kitchen window. The pipe things sticking out of the back of the house had three faucets attached. I tried turning them all off, and nothing happened. The one remaining faucet was directly above me, accessible only from the kitchen, So, back to the kitchen door, and out the other door onto a small deck area and to the one remaining faucet. I turned…nothing happened. What the hell do I do now?

My options were to call a plumber….too expensive. My husband…..at work, a 50 minute drive. Or, my brother….at his home, 4 blocks away with a year old baby and a litany of why the hell didn’t you drain the pipes? I opted for my husband. Dialing his cell, I listened as the water bill went up and up. No answer. Great. I go outside one more time to just look, I guess. Maybe some good Samaritan walking down the street or the ice cream man would stop and offer assistance. Yeah, right. Now I’m thinking, why do these things always happen to me. Especially when I’m minding my own damn business. I go back inside and ponder the inevitable. I will have to call my brother. Then my cell rings. It’s the husband. Where are you, I ask. At work….duh. I then calmly explain that pipes have busted and how do I turn off the water. He wants to know where the pipe is busted. Under the deck, I tell him. Then he tells me to go to the back of the house. I told him that I did that, and when I tried to turn the water off nothing happened. He said the main turn-off would be there and to go back again. I complain that there are three faucets and I don’t know which one. He said it would be the one closest to the house. And in typical female fashion, I ask him….which color. Yeah, a very long pause on the phone. There is now an ice rink forming in the driveway. Maybe the noise I heard was a Zamboni? At the back of the house are three faucets. There is a pipe coming out of the house and a pipe going up. He said it would be the faucet on the pipe coming out of the house. I turn it, nothing. Try it again, he says. I did. Well, this time, I turned it the other way, to the right which I assumed would be turning the water on. Nah. Right is off? And left is on? Since when? I give up. The water’s off. Disaster under control. Oh, and my husband? You know what he said? Guess I should have drained that pipe……………

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Quiet, mild-mannered souls might just turn out to be roaring lions of two-fisted cool.