Have you ever had one of those weeks when your household appliances conspire together, breaking down all together? This is that week. First the air conditioner, then refrigerator, washer, toilet...the stove burner's been out for awhile...you know, the essentials.
Husband Dion tried something new, and paid a monthly subscription to a website telling him how to fix things. This means I wake up to find lots of parts from lots of things spread lots of places. Being the good wife that I am, I have decided to stay out of it. I say "good job you". It works best that way.
In the midst of this, the idea to rearrange our furniture formed in my head. It went something like "let's take this out of that room, and then replace it with this, and then this can go here, and so forth..." and by let's, I mean me. Once a notion begins that something of large bulk and weight must go there instead of here, it usually means it should happen now. Husband Dion doesn't typically have the same notion at the same time, so good thing I'm a believer and a possessor of furniture-moving superwoman powers. In these moments, I twirl around, blink my eyes, twitch my nose, and the powers become mine.
kinda creepy, huh? This should be my getup
for the upcoming superhero 5K.
for the upcoming superhero 5K.
For the most part I can do it myself. But the other night, while moving one of those put-it-together-in-an-hour, tall bookcases from Walmart, it fell to pieces. As it fell to pieces, it smashed into husband Dion's office wall, books and everything, resulting in a fairly large hole. "Good grief," I thought, aggravated with myself for not taking all the books off the shelf. Mentally adding "the wall" to the list of things needing repair, I carelessly carefully hid it behind another bookcase.
It's that kind of week.
Surrounded by this sea of brokenness, I began feeling a need to do my part in fixing something. That something became this fountain put together for $11 last spring. Click here for the "how to". The motor began guggle guggle guggling half way through the summer, then stopped.
I wish I could explain to you what was wrong. Instead I'll tell you that in the end I took every little, tiny piece apart. Two hours later and a lot of wetness, the puzzle was solved.
I found a something to replace the something else that was supposed to be there but wasn't, and it worked! Then I took out a piece and turned it around (that is not supposed to be turned around), and that made it become so very quiet. quieter than it has ever been before.
You can imagine how happy this made me. We can once again pretend to be sitting by a quiet stream while indulging in good foods like cereal on the deck.
Now when husband Dion successfully fixes something, like the front, left side gas stove burner, as he did this morning, I can say to him, "Excellent job! Fantastic! Yes, that must feel quite nice to be such a good fixer!"
After all, I am a fixer too.
After all, I am a fixer too.
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