The Plight of the Haggard Homeowner...

 

 This is why there is mariticide. (Mariticide (from Latin maritus "husband" + -cide, from caedere "to cut, to kill") literally means the killing of one's husband or boyfriend. It can refer to the act itself ...) Sometimes someone just needs killing. Numerous trips back and forth for parts because things don't fit.  Cut out part of the wall because this new water heater is bigger than the old one. (Don't ask).  No hot water for 3 days now. It has been a home repair shit show extraordinaire.  Then it was all piped and the glue dried and ready to turn on, only to find out there was an airleak in the pipe leading to the overflow bladder, which must have gotten damaged trying to get the old heater out.  Of course, it's on the BACK SIDE of the copper pipe, so there was no seeing it ahead of time. He is at the end of his rope...my uber intelligent nice guy of a husband. He considered strangling the boy at the Rural King who had no idea what he was talking about, when he was looking for a coupler to fit the pipe he had to replace.   He is not generally a violent man.  But I suspect that home repairs can turn even Caspar Milquetoast into Charles Manson.  He just came in and said everything is glued and in place and now we wait 2 hours for the stuff to dry. 

Update: It's leaking.

  Jesus.  

Not one to ever know when to give up, he's back there, at it again.  I am in the other end of the house, except when he needs me to do something useful, like google the difference between  C PVC and regular PVC. And offer moral support.  

  In the meantime I am working on the back bedroom, cleaning it up and getting ready for a house guest this next weekend.  That poor room... everything with no home winds up in there.  It IS the home for some things. The closet is a storage/pantry. There's a shelving unit that houses several small appliances, including 2 crockpots, a rice cooker, a dehydrator, an electric skillet, a waffle iron, a George Foreman grill, a large cone colander in a metal stand.  Last Christmas's rolls of paper, bags of ribbons, gift bags  and several assorted and sundry cardboard boxes were on the bed. Other things that I put in there, thinking--I'll get to those later (and don't).  And of course, that also where, all along one wall, we store our 45 gallons of sprig water that we get from the springs and drink, There's a large dresser on another wall that houses linens and stuff.  The top of said dresser is a train wreck.  It will take me at least 2 days probably to get that room cleaned up. But git 'er done I shall.  I've made a big dent in it today. Work a while, stop a while. Work a while again. It's my MO. lol

  I found a fully cooked smallish (loaf pan sized) meatloaf in the freezer that is thawing for supper tonight. Trying to empty out enough of the freezer to be able to put ice cube trays in.  lol  It's 88 right now, and feels like 94. We've gone from winter to summer it appears. It's not horrible in here, AC and fans going, curtains drawn. Drinking lots of water. I'll heat the meatloaf in the airfryer, cook some potatoes with onions in the microwave and heat up some peas the same way.  Not much added heat to the house that way. 

 **New update:  Apparently he forgot to glue that particular joint..  All the pieces had to be dry fit and then glued and he overlooked one.  Bless his heart. He glued it and is now off to the park with a dog.  He needs a break from this circus...lol

  Well, I'm ready to get back at it.  There are canning supplies in there that I need to figure out whether to put in the garage or ??  And I may vacuum and I may not.  Might be a tomorrow job. We'll  see. AT any rate, it looks like we may have the water heater installed.  Again-- we'll see.  Hats off to all of you people who manage to keep your homes and homesteads in working order without resorting to murder.  Prayers for those of us who struggle.  

  Happy last week of May.

  

Living a life stark raving sober...

 

  Lots of people sleeping these days.  Have had strange conversations with people who have their panties in a wad about not getting a vaccine. Being part of the more vulnerable population makes me take this bs a little personally.  I don't care if you want to get the virus, but I sure as hell don't want it.  It's the age old argument about where your rights (legally or morally) begin and mine end.  I told someone this morning that if it were me and I carried (knowingly or unknowingly) this thing to someone and it killed them, I would not be able to live with myself.  I guess I don't understand how everyone doesn't look at it like that.

  I'm eating some dark chocolate--IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY.  That's the kind of day it is.  Some days, it just is what it is and other days I am in a fighting mode about all the stuff I live with daily.  It's exhausting. Thank goodness I don't feel like this every day. The past 20 years have been a circus fun house of learning to live with permanent disabilities that are rarely pretty or fun to talk about.  That are sometimes so frustrating I want to scream.  Other times I'm a regular girl Buddha, smiling through the ride.  I'll spare you the details.  Suffice it to say that life has handed me lemons on occasion and I have thrown them angrily against the wall.  Or made lemonade. You know, depending on how I feel on a particular day.  I suspect this is the way most people live their own circus lives.  Not insinuating that I am different than anyone else and certainly not unique. We're all doing the best we can and just walking each other home. Or, you know, making a shirt out of their skin.

  Himself is walking the dogs. His OT shift today was shorter than usual by a couple of hours.  He watched with amusement for a bit as I whirling dervished my way around the house. It got to be too much, so he had to find somewhere to go.  Or he was afraid I'd ask him to run the vacuum. Either way, he's off to the park and reservoir to let dogs run.  It's about a 3 hour endeavor generally, as he takes them one at a time. The Meemonster,

of course, cannot be allowed off the leash. She'd wind up in Alabama. But the 2 older dogs run to their hearts content and always keep the truck in sight in case this is the time he decides to abandon them.  The first picture is Bella and the second is Miss Molly McGee, the Jack Russell Terrorist.

He gets a walk in and they get their run in and they all live happily ever after.  And I get a little extra time to finish up some things and get supper on the table.  Win/Win.

Alright. Enough for now. I haven't been able to write much since the big event last August, and in my mind I don't understand, since it seems like I'd have even more to say. Having a mild brush with death changes a person. No argument there...

  Later, taters. I have cleaning and cooking to do.