When It Rains…

 

 

Mister and I have been battling Marvin. Marvin is the name of our pool sweeper, and we love that little motorized rover because he generally does a great job of keeping the bottom of the pool clean.

 

But not lately. Something’s causing the little guy to be sluggish, when he moves at all. The recent devil winds only complicated the situation by throwing copious amounts of debris into the water. And then there’s the cold.

 

We are spoiled here in Los Angeles and we know it. My friend Nicole put it best when she said she’d recently talked to family in Chicago who’d told her it was 55 degrees there – a heatwave! And then Nicole told her family it was 55 degrees here – and we were freezing! That is rather typical of our winter weather and our response. But know this: It was 32 degrees here when Mister woke yesterday morning. That is friggin’ cold, friends. Now ordinarily, the cold would just be something to comment about and use as an excuse to build a fire for visual warmth (while the good people at So-Cal Gas provide fuel for the house heater – the one that does the real work of keeping us cozy). But when it’s freezing outside and you have to reach into the pool to try and figure out what the hell is going on with Marvin, well, you start trying to remember your childhood training of how to deal with frostbite. You also find yourself thinking thoughts of gratitude for your pool man, and wondering just when that dude will be back from his holiday break.

 

So though that’s been on our minds, we’ve been enjoying home and each other’s company. No real drama, no real issues. But you know how it goes. When it rains, it pours. So yesterday morning when I walked into the kitchen and spotted a small puddle beneath a cabinet, my first worry was that it might be a plumbing leak from the wall (a bathroom shower is behind that wall). But I checked the puddle and it was isolated and not near the wall at all. It seemed to be coming from the cabinet itself, so I had a gander and found the culprit: a leaky container of peanut oil.

 

Y’all – peanut oil had gotten into roasting pans and serving platters, and just about everywhere else it could run inside that cabinet. And though it took me way too long to clean up the mess, I was grateful the majority of the oil had been contained by the platters. Otherwise, that mess could have been much worse. (You’ll notice I’m not talking about the loss of perfectly good peanut oil. It hurts too much to even think about it.)

 

And then… I blame myself. Why? Because I had the thought: 2 things have gone awry, will there be a 3rd? The answer was yes. After I’d cleaned up the peanut oil, I rounded the corner to check on some laundry and I stepped in water. The washer had leaked. It’s happened before, due to a too-large load of towels. I guess I’d pushed the upper limits again with the same dirty laundry. So that was the 3rd home craziness. I didn’t lose it or anything, I’d like you to know. Why would I? At some point, you just clean up the next danged mess and move on. I mean – that’s life sometimes, isn’t it? Sure, I could get in a funk about everything, but that blue mood would linger longer than the messes themselves. And I’ve been down that road. It doesn’t lead anywhere I want to go.

 

For now, Marvin’s problems will have to wait for the pool man, as Mister and I have done all we know to address that problem. And the peanut oil incident of 20-15 is merely a memory. I’m testing the washing machine to see if we had a one-time leak or are facing a bigger problem. I’m also looking for clear skies. At least where our house is concerned. 3 may be a magic number and all, but it is also plenty when it comes to challenges, thank-you-very-much.

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