Tag Archives: home owner

Wet and Wild

This morning was awfully exciting. Awfully. Exciting. “I think the HVAC is making a sound. Did you hear that?”

“Nope.” I am famous for not hearing things. And alternatively for hearing things that no one else can hear.

MQD pulls on some clothes and goes to take a look.

I got up. “Let’s make Daddy’s lunch, Lucy.” I walked in to the kitchen. I was going to make coffee first. But I didn’t. I have a big glass of water the moment I wake up. This morning I found I’d left my water bottle already filled on the counter last night. I started slugging back the first bottle of water of the day. I ran my hand through my hair and realized I’d not showered yesterday or this morning. I always shower. Every day. Always. Had any one of those things happened I’d have noticed we had no water pressure.

There is a knock at the back door. MQD. He looks like he has been swimming.


Long story short. The sound he heard was not a leaf stuck in our HVAC fan. It was water shooting everywhere in our crawl space. Our hot water heater died last night. And apparently a pipe attached to it burst.

I handed MQD a flashlight and immediately filled the Keurig before he turned the water off. I contemplated racing in to the bathroom to wash my hair but assumed that would make me appear insensitive to the larger problem.

So I made coffee.

And then I made a tank top out of a Jack Kerouac tshirt I have had since 1992.

And MQD called our home warranty company.

And I painted the vanity in our guest bathroom.

And MQD talked to the plumber that fixed our leak.

And I painted the cabinets in the master bathroom.

And MQD talked to the warranty rep and scheduled the delivery and installation of our new water heater.

And I took a freezing cold shower. And we went out for Mexican food. I wore my new shirt.

The moral of the story? Moral number 1 and 1.5: When I feel out of control I get shit done. And when my hair is dirty I wear the overalls I was wearing the day before. And when I wear my overalls I get shit done. Today was a double whammy of getting shit done.

Moral number 2: Get a home warranty. Your new hot water heater will cost you $60 and you will take yourself out for Mexican food.

And now I wait.  And worry.  I really want to paint my cabinets in my kitchen.  Today I got a new hot water heater.  And  I painted four doors and three drawers.  My kitchen has twenty three cabinets and fourteen drawers.  I guess the weekday that my roof caves in I will start painting in the kitchen.

Welcome to the early 90s. Feel the love of the warm oak cabinets. Some day…


Saturday is Magic

There’s something special about Saturdays. This morning I woke and it was raining. Rain meant there would be no Easter Egg hunt downtown. No Easter egg hung meant we had exactly nothing we needed to do today.

Lucy was up around six and snoozing again by quarter after. I laid in bed and listened to the rain and the wind chime. And for Emily. I heard her knocking around upstairs no later than seven. I have never met a kid that take so little pleasure in hanging around in her pajamas. Fully dressed and accessorized she came banging down the stairs with her new bean bag to set up Saturday morning camp. I heard her move the foot stool and kick the tv on.

Into the kitchen she went to get breakfast. I can remember those mornings when I was old enough to make some weird snack for myself. It was exciting to be all alone in the kitchen. Later in the day I pieced together (through careful examination of the countertops) that she’d made cheese quesadillas in the microwave.

We got moving eventually and went out to get Em a new soccer ball. Home by noon. Grilled cheese sandwiches and cat naps all around. Emily left us on the couch in favor of her caterpillar fort eventually.

The grass was mowed. For the first time since we moved in. I haven’t pushed a lawnmower since I left the beach. Four years. You might think only a new homeowner relishes mowing the grass. But that’s not so. There is sweat. And order. And straight lines. And immediate gratification. So many things I find pleasure in.

I thought the day couldn’t get any sweeter. I took a shower. My second of the day, which as a mother of a newborn is cause for celebration.

I thought we would wrap up Saturday much like the week had been. Simple. The kind of Saturday I hope to repeat as often as possible through the years.

When Em ran in the house she stopped at the carpet of the living room. Taking off her shoes she was grinning like a fool.


At long last! A loose tooth. This week’s trip to the orthodontist revealed we’d quite likely be making an appointment soon to have her two front teeth on the bottom pulled out. It seemed at least one of them was planning on coming out on its own.

As a little girl I loved a wiggly tooth. I’d flip that tooth with my tongue for days, until it was hanging by a thread. But I guess when you are six years, seven months and two weeks old before you get a loose tooth you can’t wait any longer.

Three hours later Em came running downstairs. The tooth fairy will be at our house tonight. For the very first time.

20120331-184234.jpgYou can have Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. I’ll take the tooth fairy. Trading a little bitty baby tooth for a moment of magic. That magic is a silver dollar in our house. She will find it in her tooth pillow and put it somewhere for safe keeping.

Emily has a jewelry box in her room. The kind with a ballerina inside. Tomorrow she will place a silver dollar in her jewelry box. Late tonight I will put a baby tooth in the very back of mine.

Turns out this was no ordinary Saturday.