Watershed moments

NOTE: Some writings I had done in earlier years, and shared on a smaller scale, have been requested to be posted on my blog. So I am going to do a bit of older posting, the time scale will seem off of some, so I want to be clear this is from many years ago. 



Last weekend, for 5 days really, I played single mom while Carter was 800 miles away at a funeral. During said time away, the following took place:

Thursday Nick fell and impaled his leg with the gears from his bike. A most horrific wound if I've ever seen one.

Friday after school and work I walked the dogs, took Jackson to chess, delivered something to a woman 30 minutes away, picked Jackson up from chess, took Nick to the mall, made dinner for Jackson, chatted with my mom, learned how to make a Bazzill gift box, picked Nick up from the mall, procrastinated in doing both laundry and dishes (gee I hate housework and missed Carter!), finalized my inventory, filled all my Wishblade title orders and got everything ready to take Jackson to the chess tournament on Sat.

Saturday morning I got up at the crack of dawn, walked the dogs in the cold morning air, showered (this will be key, later on!) took Jackson to a chess tournament 25 miles north of us, came home, thought about doing the dishes, took the dogs on a long walk, filled the truck to overflowing with all manner of things that needed to be taken to the dump, raked leaves, trimmed a holly topiary, gathered lots of recycling materials and headed out to the dump, knowing that my sweaty, stinky, nasty self would need a shower as soon as I returned home.

Pulled out of my driveway and admired the lovely, expansive and exceptionally natural fountain gracing the front lawn of my home.  We live in a country club neighborhood where some people have quite lovely landscaping, extensive man made ponds and other such desirable water features.  Right in the middle of my front lawn, a fabulous, remarkable fountain that caused me to draw my breath in utter fascination.

Mostly because we do not normally have a fountain.

Our water main had broken and was putting up brilliant water sculptures at an amazing and expensive rate.  I stopped the truck, loaded down like I was a movin' to Beverly...and ran, FILTHY ALREADY, to my water main at the street.  After much effort on my part and the benevolence of a neighbor, we were able to shut the water off completely to my house.
And that, my dear friends, is where this story really begins.

So there I stood, awash with mud, sweat, filth and thinking there isn't a clean place upon my body with the exception of the two tear-cleansed paths down my dirty face and realize that when I come home from the dump (surely I can't NOT go now), there will not be a cleansing shower for me.

I return home, disrobe in the garage and set about realizing all the places in which water is needed, and so sorely taken for granted.
Toilet? Out of order.
Sink? Not gonna happen.
Dishwasher? Oy--why didn't I just run it last night?
Laundry? Ha ha ha...ugh!
The list felt as though it went on and on and on.

A bright moment, when I realize that I can go to the church (bless my master key!) and bathe myself back to normalcy.  

Except I forgot a towel. 

And did not realize this minor little fact until well lathered and unable to turn back time.  And while my two Labs can shake themselves into a bone-dry farethewell after a long bath---I was unable to do so.  Pulling dry clothing onto a predominately wet body, especially one that is the before photo in a Bally's ad, should be the next reality show on UPN.  It is truly hysterical to see, if it is not seen in a mirror.  Then it is just sad, and only mildly humorous.
I must now return to retrieve Jackson from the tournament, prepare a meal without water (telephones are allowed! Bless you Domino's!) and figure out how to do those luxurious little things--like brush your teeth, when the tap runneth not.  I used bottled water to brush my teeth.  I swear I saw a flash of Paris Hilton in my mirror as I spit and rinsed at 8.00 a gallon.

Sunday morning Nick is passing Lord's Supper at church. Do I have the shirt he asked me to wash, clean? Nope, and all the bottled water in Charlotte couldn't help me with that.

I could go on, but then I'd have to tell you that we're now in the grip of strep at my house and I feel like someone dropped a house on me and I have to go to work because I am running the staff meeting in my manager's absence tomorrow.  

I'd have to tell you I am staying at my in-laws house until Saturday when the plumber is 'pretty sure' he'll have the whole system put back together with gleaming copper piping to replace that forsaken plastic that is there now.  

I'd have to tell you all that, and it just seems too depressing, so I won't go on.

Feel like praying and being thankful? Go run the tap for me and say a prayer that your plumbing is designed to outlast you and your loved ones.  

And know that I'll be back in full-force once water runs freely once again at our home.  Until then, I'll likely only post in a trickle.