Life

 I am literally dealing with plumbers on both sides of the country and in the middle.  Or at least in the process of arranging to have work done.

Here, I’m waiting for bath tub faucets to come in.  Apparently, the pandemic has caused a shortage of faucets and the ones that would work needed to be special ordered.  And because the access to the workings of the faucets is at the back of my closet, I have to move a lot of stuff.  It’s not really a bad thing as it has made me start clearing out things.  You know how it is, if you don’t have to deal with stuff, you just don’t.   And it’s a very big closet which made accumulating clothes, shoes etc all too easy.  Now it’s all about decisions.  Do I keep the sweatshirt from the Neil Diamond 1989 concert?

The faucets haven’t come in yet, so the closet clearing will be on hold since I am going to North Carolina next week to deal with a clogged main drain and faucet to be replaced.  I had to pick a plumber based on reviews and hoping for the best.  I’m bringing the faucets packed in my suitcase.  I wonder if that will set off some kind of alarms.  I’m checking the bag, but the TSA still can look through suitcases.  It’s happened to me a few times.  

There’s more going on in North Carolina beyond the plumbing repairs.  Getting appliances delivered, old ones hauled away and carpeting done.  Not going to be a relaxing trip.

 
I’m working on arranging for the plumber to finish something started a year ago in Chicago.  My downstairs neighbor had leaking in their ceiling which turned out to be from the toilet in my place.  It was the height of everything being shut down and one of my neighbors nicely let the plumber into my place.  He basically shut down the toilet so the leaking stopped, but repairs were still needed to the floor and the toilet replaced.  With all the quarantines and shut downs and everything else going on, I put off dealing with it until now.    

When we moved into our first house I took a class on home repairs at a place called Everywomen’s Village.  It was taught by a guy who parked his motorcycle outside the ramshackle building where the class was held.  He wore a vest that said next to sex I like my Harley best. He claimed to be a psychologist and said that it was the little things like broken stuff in your house that really drove people crazy.  He preceded to teach us how everything worked, like lamps, toilets and such.  What I learned served me well.  I actually did some repairs myself, but the best part was that I got an understanding of how things work.  So, now as I travel around dealing with all these repairs, at least I know what’s going on.