It’s always something
This morning I was washing up a few dishes, but when I steppedaway from the sink, I realized I was standing in wet socks in a puddle ofwater. Foot neuropathy is why I didn’t realize my feet were wet, but that wasthe least of my problems. There was standing water on my hardwood floor andwater dripping from the cabinet under the sink, where everything was wet. I gotlots of bath towels, soaked up what I could, and called for help. There was noway I could get on hands and knees and drag all that wet stuff out. Christian,as usual, was sweet about it, mopping up towels, moving racks of things and boxes—you’dbe amazed at how much I can cram under a sink. Finally, it was all cleaned up, the cabinet just damp but we left thedoors open for air. At suppertime, Christian replaced the things that weresitting outside drying. I marked my calendar for first thing tomorrow morningto call the plumber.
It was the spray nozzle, whichwas leaking back down the cord into the cabinet. The nozzle is a Delta product,which is supposed to be good, but this is the third time I have had thisproblem. Delta must have recognized the problem, because it has given up freereplacement and now charges—last time it was $10, but with inflation who knows?I am less concerned with cost than I am with inconvenience. Trying to use thesink while keeping the sprayer down in the sink is inconvenient at best andoffers a free shower at the worst. I soldiered through fixing a pot of soup forsupper. But then, would you believe it, I lost all common sense, forgot aboutit, washed the soup bowls, and flooded the cabinet again. It’s late evening,and I didn’t dare call Christian again, so I got the one remaining bath towel,sopped it all up with my feet—a mobility handicap is teaching me to haveambidextrous feet—and looped the towel onto the cabinet so it would, I hoped,stop dripping onto the floor. Tomorrow, the wonderful Zenaida will be here andI’ll ask her to deal with the mess. Makes me feel bad, because the whole reasonI did the dishes—after Jordan and Christian decided to rinse and leave forZenaida, was that I have several extra-duty chores on her list for tomorrow. Ohwell, I’m sure she’ll appreciate good intentions.
Most of today was spent goingto livestream church—I went to the Ten:10 alternative service out of curiosity.It’s informal, casual, and yet very welcoming. I could see that people weremilling around, greeting each other. There was a baby dedication, much like theones at the traditional service, and a word from a new outreach minister--buthis mic was either not on or so low I couldn’t hear it, even with my hearingaids turned up. I am looking forward to getting to know him, especially becauseI hear he once trained as a chef. Yes, I’m not too proud to live vicariouslythrough the experience of others. The Ten:10 has a remarkable young woman who playsguitar and sings with more gusto than I am used to in church. She is a forcefor good, and I may go back again just to hear her. But I admit, for a traditionalistlike me, the service lacked something, so I tuned in to the first part of the traditionalservice at eleven. I am well churched today.
Jordan did a lot of groceryplanning for Christmas—several days with lots of hungry teenagers—and the onlyother thing I did today was to make a pot of chicken/wild rice soup. So good.All the family liked it, which is a good thing because I think they’ll get itagain tomorrow night, perhaps with a salad. This was a new recipe for me, and Ifollowed it carefully because I haven’t cooked much with wild rice. But as partof my ongoing effort to eat out of the freezer, it did clear out a one lb.package of skinless, boneless chicken thighs—and it was pretty good.
A generally good reflectiveSunday. But watch out, world, at least those of us who celebrate Christmas.It’s about to get frantic time! And that’s all part of the fun. For me, it hasto balance with a deep recognition of what we celebrate. Merry Christmas.
