Well, in my defense, it's been a very busy week, full of change and riot. And sound and fury. And a cascade of debt and drama that began on ...
Monday when the sprinkler people were supposed to come, but didn't, possibly because it was raining. They were supposed to fix the leak and estimate what it would cost to move the sprinkler pump.
Tuesday was the End of the Political World as we know it. My mouth is still agape.
Wednesday the basement waterproofers came and drilled a hole through the basement wall to install a sump pump. Thirty years ago we were cautioned by the builder that we wouldn't need a sump pump unless our sump hole overflowed, and it never did. It would seem those people were wrong. It's been less than a week and that mildew smell that reminds me of GrandCeil has started to leave the basement. Little tiny emotional loss. Tear. Snif. And in other loss: twelve hundred dollars.
Thursday the cable people were called because the tiVo/Cable card shorted out while the drilling was going on. They were unable to get it fixed.
Friday the sprinkler people came out, and said I did not harm the system by gardening, it was just one of those coincidences that happen when a clump of dirt keeps a sprinkler head open. Gardening didn't cause the sprinkler flood, just as the drilling didn't cause the cable outage, and Congressional inaction didn't cause President Trump. They moved the clump, all is well, charged us nothing.They estimated it would take five hundred dollars to move the sprinkler pump out of the damp basement. Then, the cable people came out again and went through six tiVo cards before they found one that worked. I give Gary all credit for wrangling all the appointments and wresting the tiVo problem to the ground.
Saturday was the in-law's Mother's Day. Gary was as fractious as I have ever seen him. I had to yell over him IT IS MOTHER'S DAY STOP ARGUING WITH YOUR MOTHER ON MOTHER'S DAY. Eventually he settled down. He's been fractious and spending lots of money. Bipolar? Sure, let's say so. Why not.
Sunday was the day I was going to crack open Mom's box of letters, but instead I took two unsettling phone calls. First, my brother called in an angry yelling state because he was rejected by a friend he wanted to have coffee with, and now he is going to die alone. It was as if he went back an entire year of therapy. Then, the renter called about the house and it seems he might want to purchase it. I doubt it will happen. I am not making plans. Still, another set of memories about to fade as fast as the lost basement smell. Mildew memories may not be considered ideal but sometimes they're the best you have.