Much to my chagrin, it's been over a month since I last posted to my blog. I've thought about doing so numerous times during my self imposed interlude, but every time the notion occurred that I was being delinquent in exercising what limited writing ability I may possess, I came to the conclusion that my subject matter would no doubt be centered around my continuing extreme displeasure with what is occurring in our nation's capital. I am reticent to belabor that matter at further length for no apparent benefit to anyone other than myself. In my opinion there is no endearing benefit in continuing to work myself up into a frothy lather. At least not until the latter part of this coming summer when it will be time to whip up the languishing discontent among my fellow citizens and join them in our gathering march to the polls in November to cast a landslide of votes in opposition to those who have so foolishly disregarded our demands for common sense representation. Let those who consider themselves intellectually superior to the common man enjoy their few remaining weeks to relish their short-lived victories. The bell of just recompense shall toll for them in due time.
For me life has continued on a leisurely pace unabated. My 62nd birthday arrived without major fanfare last Thursday. I am now officially eligible to begin collecting my monthly social security stipend beginning in June. I shall welcome the extra monthly income to help augment my part-time employment, which fluctuates between 20 and 30 hours a week. I'm not complaining. In fact I am most thankful that I have this opportunity to earn a weekly wage, as there are so many people in this state and tri-county area that have been out of work for months and, in many cases, a year or more without a single prospect of finding any type of job.
A couple of weeks back a local company advertised that they were looking to hire a couple hundred people for a new construction project and over 7,000 folks showed up in the hopes of landing one of the offered positions. I couldn't help but be profoundly saddened as I studied the faces on the television screen who displayed so much desperate hope, yet knowing that for the greatest majority this effort would be but yet another disappointment in their struggle to keep mind, body and spirit afloat for yet another day. Yes, I am most fortunate and blessed to possess a marketable skill that affords me the opportunity to keep the creditor wolves away from my threshold.
My birthday was both a blessing and a curse. The blessing was having daughter Megan home from Chicago to spend 10 days with us. Our home was once again regaled with the laughter and spirited conversation that she and many of her friends re-introduced to our dinner table. Having her boyfriend Greg in her company for a shorter visit with us was also an added joy. We played golf together and renewed our fondness for one another.
The curse came with the realization that the gurgling sound emanating from the tub in the bathroom was most likely, as I suspected, due to the distinct possibility that the sewer pipe leading from our home out to the alley was most likely clogged. The tale tale odor that was turning the air blue around the old homestead was also an odious clue. So, rather than paying some day laborer to dig up the back yard, I spent my birthday weekend shoveling a trench three feet deep, following the uncovered sewer pipe section by section, knowing that sooner (I hoped) than later I would find the breach. What I discovered, much to my chagrin, was that the pipe I was laboriously uncovering was not in fact the actual sewer line, but had been abandoned years ago. I made this disappointing discovery when the last pipe I uncovered did not connect to another section. It just stopped! "Great!! Now what!?!" Since our home was constructed in the late 1920's, common sense dictated that somewhere beneath my feet was yet another sewer line or else, for all these many past decades, our waste was merely evaporating into the sandy soil to parts unknown. Fat chance...
Another hour and another two feet in the direction of China and I finally came across the heretofore illusive line and began once again digging my way toward the west side of the house where I knew I had previously replaced a bad section of line. About 9 p.m. I uncovered the broken pipe. "Victory!" However, repairs and replacement would have to wait until the following day, as I could barely drag my 62 year old body out of the ditch. Came too soon Saturday morning and once again I was back at it. A trip to Home Depot for PVC pipe and fittings and by noon all was repaired. Yelling out to Judi, "Let 'er rip!," she flushed in succession both toilets and I carefully inspected to make sure there were no leaks. Again to Judi, "If you'll pardonn the expression, 'We're good to go!.'" "Hurray!" came back here reply. By 9 p.m. I had again refilled the ditch and was left pondering if there is an unwritten Murphy's Law that states that "No matter how deep is the hole, them amount of dirt removed will not all go back into the same hole!" I'm left with two piles of dirt (make that sand...this is Florida after all) with no place to dispose of same. Alas...this conundrum must wait until next Saturday when I have allowed my tired old muscles the chance to recuperate. Maybe my neighbors won't notice that I've spread my wealth of good fortunes over their yards.
So...that's how I spent my birthday weekend. It could have been a lot worse, but I'm having difficulty imagining how.
P.S. If birthdays are regarded as achievable and celebrated milestones, how come the final destination is marked with a headstone?" Seems to me to be a matter of diminishing returns...
No comments:
Post a Comment