Tag Archives: Plumbing

Eating and plumbing

Kenyon, Minnesota back in the 1930s or so. Before my time, but this is pretty much how I remember it.

Yesterday was a good day. There’s been a sudden hiatus – for some reason – in my translating. I got a sudden reminder on Facebook that some of my high school classmates were meeting down in Kenyon (our home town) for one of our occasional get-togethers. (When there are five Wednesdays in a month, we try to meet at some restaurant for lunch on the fifth one. The lockdowns, of course, played hob with this admirable plan, but we’re back at it again).

We met at a new restaurant in town. I might as well mention it, as I liked the food and the service. Kenyon has not been a lucky place for restaurants since I was a boy. This place, Lacey’s, occupies a space where two restaurants have died over the last few years. But one of my friends, who’s stayed in town and knows everybody, said they have a good business plan and are doing a brisk trade. God bless them.

I genuinely enjoy these little reunions. I don’t know any of these people well anymore, and we have vast differences in beliefs, education, and politics. But we have two inexhaustible topics for conversation – our shared school experiences, and the multiple indignities of growing old. There’s a bond there. I suppose military veterans feel much the same. And our casualty list is, I expect, comparable. Members of my class started dying off fast after graduation, and they kept it up at a rapid pace through the years that followed. Somebody noted that we haven’t actually lost any for a few years now. It would appear that we few, we happy few, we survivors are a hardy lot.

A wiser man might have stayed home due to the driving conditions (it’s a tip of over an hour). The temperature lingered just around freezing all day, and what the meteorologists call a “wintry mix” kept falling. But in practice I found the road surfaces fine, and made it there and back without any scares.

An update on my great plumbing crisis – the way things have shaken out, it all proves to be not only a case of God’s provision, but of my own obliviousness. The Bible says, “Before they ask, I will answer them,” or words to that effect. (Actually I’m not sure it does. I’ve heard it quoted many times, but Bible Hub doesn’t produce a reference.)

I have a Home Service Warranty, and have had it since I bought this place. It had honestly never occurred to me that it might cover plumbing. I had what I assumed to be an adequate understanding of what warranties cover – not structural stuff, but appliances. And in my mind, plumbing was a lot more like a roof than like a clothes dryer.

But lo, I was wrong. My old pipes are covered, thereby saving me piles of money. I am gratified by this, but embarrassed to have almost missed it.

Faith lessons under the bathtub

This 1920 American film is only a little older than my pipes.

Ogden Nash wrote a poem long ago about owning an old house. In it he parodied a popular line from the popular poet Edgar A. Guest:

It takes a heap o’ livin’ 
To make a house a home.

Nash’s poem is called, with typical Nashian disregard for titling conventions, “Lines to a World-Famous Poet Who Failed to Complete a World-Famous Poem, or, Come Clean, Mr. Guest!” He discusses facts about home-ownership that Guest’s poem fails to mention.

It contains the lines,

And unless you’re spiritually allied to the little Dutch boy who went around inspectin’ dikes lookin’ for leaks to put his thumb in,
 It takes a heap o’ plumbin’.

These lines have haunted my lonely nights over all the years I’ve owned a house built in the same year as the Great Stock Market Crash. Yesterday I had a plumber out to clear a clog in my bathtub drain, a fairly common experience around here. And he gave me the Doleful Word I’d been expecting so long – “We can clear it out, but you’ve got pipes leaking in the basement, and you need some major work done down there.”

He went on to say that he wasn’t qualified to talk to me about the big job himself. But they could have a specialist come out to look at it today. He did, however, take a substantial down payment.

Hence, last night was an exercise in faith. It was one of those times when I have to say, “God has always made sure my financial needs were covered. I believe He’ll look after me now. And if He doesn’t (from a human point of view; it’s not out of the question he might want me to lose the place) then that will be in His blessing too.”

When I got up this morning, having uploaded last night the big script I’d been working on, there was a note from my boss: “We’ve got lots of work coming in, if you’re available.”

These are the words you want to hear on a day like this.

I feel that blessings of this kind coming from God must be acknowledged. And this is my acknowledgement.

Self-promotion for passive-aggressives

Photo credit: Maarten van den Heuvel @ mvdheuvel

Nothing to review today. My reading has slowed in the last couple days, which is not all bad. I’m trying to reduce my book spending, due to the current cutbacks.

Which will be exacerbated by the plumber’s appointment I had today. My kitchen faucet succumbed to the corrosive water we enjoy in Robbinsdale, and had to be replaced. I got the cheapest model they offered, but still… ouch.

Then out into the wide world and chill air, for a breathless visit to the drug store and the grocery store. Had my prescription filled at CVS. Later in the day, a somewhat pathetic e-mail showed up. Would I take a minute to fill out a form for them? Specifically, to indicate on a scale of one to ten how likely I am to recommend their enterprise to friends and family?

I don’t really want to fill it out. Because the truth would be cruel. I am somewhere between zero and one on that scale. Not because I dislike their stores. But because I can’t recall ever discussing drug store choices with any friend or family member. For some reason it just doesn’t come up. Maybe we’re atypical.

And in the back of my mind, the constant nagging voice of my inner publicist whispers: “This is what you should be doing, kid. If a big industry like CVS can send out plaintive appeals for affirmation, you can occasionally bug your fans about plugging your books and posting reviews on Amazon.”

Shut up, Nagging Publicist Voice. In these parts, we consider fishing for compliments a mark of weakness.

Then off to the grocery store. At checkout, the lady in front of me in line noticed I’d bought a Marie Callender Honey-Roasted Turkey meal. “Is that good?” she asked. “My husband and I eat a lot of that kind of meals, but we’re looking for something less bland than what we’ve been having.”

I told her I like it quite a bit, and don’t find it bland at all. (“Of course I’m Norwegian,” I should have added.)

Oddly enough, I had a similar conversation some years ago, at the same store, with a guy who told me how much he enjoyed that very same frozen meal. I agreed with him, and we shared a moment of social harmony, then went our separate ways.

In my world, that’s how promotion ought to be done. Not by intrusive tub-thumping, but by people just recommending things they like to each other, in the natural course of things. Even, unlikely as it seems, drug stores.

So when you plug my books, pretend it’s just natural. Thank you.

Minot Postmortem, Part 2

Aaaand, I can’t make Photobucket work tonight either. Well, my pictures weren’t that great.

I spent a couple hours trying (without success) to plunge out a blockage in my bathtub drain tonight. So I have a plumbing appointment in the morning.

Thank you for your patience.