With the educational establishments dormant, and Independence Day celebrations relegated to the memory bank, things have become slightly quieter, on the central front. Automated emails with messages of "I will be out of the office until....", have become commonplace, and ice has become the 'best seller' in most stores.
I drove myself to the office on Monday, after a battle with my washing machine. The agitator did not seem to want to agitate and I removed the wet towels, one by one, leaving a puddle of water between the appliance and the bath, where they were deposited. I was not sure what I could do. As I have said, previously, my lack of knowledge in these parts is quite frustrating. The idea of having to search for a new washing machine and dryer was debilitating. Although the requirements are not as specific as those I required in a new oven, the actual thought of shopping for said appliances is exhausting in itself. What used to be an exciting opportunity to acquire a labour saving device with the latest technology, is now a challenge to find something that is not digital. I do not want to tell my smart house (which I do not have) through my phone, to turn on the washing machine. It does not need to know my name, date of birth and inside leg measurement to wash a couple of towels! However, I digress! I loaded the machine, programmed the cycle, waited for it to finish, hung up the washing to dry, (due to the dryer refusing to dry,) and headed to the office.
Still rather upset at the fact that my appliances are almost at voting age, and therefore, facing retirement, I tried to concentrate on the ever increasing amount of documents on my desk. Samantha and the crew arrived to drop off the puppy, before taking a ride downtown to take a segway tour, and a kayaking trip. I returned home at lunchtime to take my midday swim, and found the water cool, but the heat sapping. "We are only in July", I heard in my head. This is the annual phrase that is repeated before we hit the traditional 'hot' month!
With all the aspects of my life here with which I have come to terms, for example, the weather, the slower pace of life and the general willingness to tell anyone and everyone your life story, (and their willingness to listen,) I still feel very vulnerable when it comes to anything to do with general maintenance. Vehicles are not so much of a problem, probably due to my faith in my regular mechanic, but household issues are very much an emotional drain. Perhaps it was the fact that my children's father was a Jack of all trades that gave me a sense of security when electrical or plumbing issues became abound.
Healthy and vigourous debate could be heard on Wednesday morning at Joe's coffee shop. In fact, I did not leave until much later than usual, to get to the salon for my nail appointment. However, as my second paragraph indicated, Austin has become somewhat deserted, and traffic was very light. I got to the salon early and the return journey to the office was not stressful. Being lulled into a false sense of security is a mindset of which I must rid myself, but actually putting that plan into action appears to be somewhat difficult. Dinner plans had been scuppered due to the fact that the joint of meat that I had planned to cook, had defrosted and was emitting rather a nasty smell. Upon further research I found that my timing had been out! I had not bought it earlier this year, but last! I decried the waste, but there was nothing I could do. Chicken was on the menu, again! This had left me little time to make dessert for my Wednesday night guests, so I decided to make a simple Swiss roll when I got home. Everything sounded okay, so far!
My afternoon swim on Wednesday was not much fun. Pablo, my Spanish neighbour, was in the pool, swimming laps, and causing a tidal wave! I swam beside him for twenty minutes, but did less laps than normal due to the strong current. Admittedly, it was a better 'work out', but my mood was decidedly sullied. Once again, my inner 'Veruca Salt' emerged. "I want the pool to myself, and I want it NOW!" I would have apologised to Pablo, but he was oblivious!
The cake was in the oven as I poured water into the kettle, so that I could make the obligatory iced tea. I am not quite sure what happened, whether the lid of the jug just fell off (highly unlikely) or whether I was thinking about refilling the water jug and as I was pouring, inadvertently removed the lid, (more likely,) but suffice it to say, the jug emptied all over the counter and onto the hob. Water was dripping everywhere! Half a gallon of petrol will not get you very far if you are wanting to go on a journey. However, half a gallon of water is enough to flood a counter top! I stood and stared, perhaps waiting for it to disappear, perhaps waiting for a replay in time. Nothing. The timer on the oven was ticking downwards, and I had two minutes in which to act. Everything on the counter top had a 'dip' in one way or another, and when I lifted each item, water seemed to pour. Does water expand if you stare at it? I mopped and wiped, wiped and mopped. The timer went off on the oven, and water was still dripping.
I am not sure how my composure returned, or when, but it did, and I had managed to go into 'auto pilot'. The kitchen was dry (and definitely clean) and dessert was prepared. The tea was on the table and all seemed to be going well.
I do not have a dining room table. Instead I have a pool table. I have chosen not to exchange this, as my kitchen table is large enough to fit several guests around, although my guests are used to the more informal cultural tradition of gathering around the coffee table with plates on laps. The pool table has proved to be a great social device! Having never played the game previously, I quite enjoy a 'round' or two on occasion. My winning streaks are usually flukes but I enjoy the challenge. However, on Wednesday, the pool table appeared to be more of a 'pool' table, as there was a puddle of water in the middle. The cue ball that was in the center was covered in droplets, and the felt was wet! I looked back into the kitchen and wondered if there was any way the water that had been splattered all over the counter could have made its way into the living room. It seemed a little unlikely. Did I wave my towel in the direction of the table when I returned from my swim? More unlikely as my towel was damp, not wet. Where did this water come from? Perhaps my first thought should have been to look upwards. Perhaps it was my first thought but I chose to ignore it. As if my head was in a vice, and unable to move, I lifted my chin slowly, not letting my eyes avert their stare from the table. Eventually, I had no choice, and looked directly at the ceiling. It became apparent why the dark patch of 'popcorn' that I had removed from the ceiling had become darker. There was a leak. Was it from the washing machine? Panic hit me with a vengeance. I ran upstairs, tried to measure with my eyes whether the appliance was over the patch or whether it was from the shower. I realised that I had no way of knowing. All I knew was that I had no idea about the pipe lay out in my home, the washing machine was on a tiled floor and the shower was tiled, so whatever it was, my house was going to fall down into a hole, and there would be nothing left by morning. Extreme? Not for me! In fact, that was optimistic! I was already starting the process of finding a hotel, one with a kitchen in the room and a launderette, near to the office. I called Dana. "We have a serious leak. I am telling you this as I am about to cry. It is over the pool table. I don't know what to do. We might have to move out". His reply was quite simple. "Have you got anything to cover the pool table?" I replied that I did have some covering, but I did not know where the water was coming from, and...and....and...! "Please cover the pool table". I took a deep breath and said that I would. My first reaction was, "I can't believe he cares so much about the pool table!" My second was, "How sensible. I need to pull myself together". I did as I had been asked and continued to prepare dinner. When Dana finally came home, the patch was quite small, and seemed not to be so bad. "I know you don't actually know the answer", I started, "But can you tell me that this is not going to be major?" He looked up, very quickly, without a vice on his head, and said, "No, probably not major. Just inconvenient." My hero!
The next couple of days were experimental. With a renewed vigour and determination to rid myself of the uselessness in areas of household maintenance, (although I do not think I am going to enroll myself in a college course - although perhaps....,) I set about finding the source of the leak. "Perhaps its the faucets on the washer", suggested Raul, our maintenance man. "When did you last change them?" Probably 1926! "But the condos weren't built until the seventies?" Exactly! "Perhaps it is the washer?" he broached. I smiled, internally growled, but smiled!
I poured a bucket of water down the drain. Nothing. I used the washing machine. Nothing. I used the removable shower head. Nothing. I used the main shower. Yes! However, when I used the removable shower head again, the wet patch on the ceiling appeared.
My instinct tells me that it is the upward pipe that has the problem, rather than the downward drain, but I am not an expert. When Grant said that he had qualified as a plumber, and would definitely look at it for us, I almost hugged him, but managed to restrain myself, in case it seemed too needy. I am needy!
By Friday, I was almost smiling! I had definitely honed in on the shower being the problem. My dryer could possibly be repaired, and it was a beautiful day! My house was not going to disappear into a hole in the ground, and the ceiling was (probably) not going to cave in! What more could I ask for!
My weekend came and went in a flash. I went shopping with my daughter, went swimming, started a new John Grisham book (the first of the season; they need to be rationed!) and enjoyed some quality time with my husband. Pablo came to the pool on Saturday and asked if I had come to the pool on Wednesday. He thought I had but didn't realise that I had gone swimming!
Counting my blessings, I am going into next week with a positive attitude. I hope that next week does not hold the same sort of excitement as this, which I hope to be able to concur, in ............ another story!
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