- the oppressive flat-plains winters we endured
- the anti-intellectual, binge-drinking environment
- how far one feels one can get in a fly-over state
- how there are things more fearsome than death
- the cessation of one's prior way of life
But this is a photo embedded in the old style. It is the last one I shall do this way.
It's late in the evening on a Tuesday night. I'm having a Bavarian Hefeweizen in honor of the approaching Oktoberfest--I thought I'd like to host an Oktoberfest party of my own, but we're trying to start saving money and a party is the opposite of that--and listening to a musical compilation, Maroc by Night. I'm enjoying it very much.
This afternoon I went to the pet store and bought a new bag of litter, hauled this 40 lb. bag home on my shoulder. I dumped the old litter out of the catbox, scraped the remnants away, decided to wash it and carried it downstairs.
That's when I discovered the basement was flooding.
I have no technical prowess whatsoever. It took me way too long to realize it was one of the two water heaters that was pouring water onto the floor--way too long to identify it as a water heater. Once that was done I had to guess where the water pipe on it was and shut it off. Fortunately, the instructions for shutting off the gas were very clear and accessible. That done, I quickly located a dry/wet vacuum (our landlord is on vacation in Mexico City this week), moved the waterlogged property out of the way, and cleaned up the flooded mess. I'm a little impressed with myself, at the efficacy of my work.
Then I went to my writers group meeting, which was just me and Heller. Rebecca (different one) said she'd be late and Kristin didn't say anything at all, and Sara never shows up. Well, Heller and I respect each other's writing and we found stuff to talk about. We talked about what prevents us from submitting for publication to certain places (or at all, in my case). We also called it an early night.