Fix it

Whee, my first post. I wish I had something charming to discuss but I fear that most of my posts will be, primarily, me whining about something. OH, don't pretend you don't whine about things. Yes you do, you're just not writing it down. If your problems are less distressing than mine, you get to feel better (why, you're welcome!) and if mine are less awful than yours, you get to wallow a little more, which we both know is what you were going to do anyway.

Where was I? My sprinklers...remember when it froze so hard in January? I think some of my sprinklers took it on the chin; because first one and then another are in some secretive way, leaking or gushing or being otherwise all f*****d up. Last week I replaced the first leaky one but that didn't help at all. Today (it is Friday of course) there was a serious swamp: evidence of a broken pipe, further down than my shovel could reach [although I didn't go down that far because then what?].

As my followers (all three of you) know, I am reasonably resourceful, thanks to my mother and grandmother who always figured out and solved their own property-owner type problems. But I know when I'm in over my head (figuratively speaking--I only dug down about 6 inches) so I called my friend L to see who fixes HIS sprinklers; called THAT guy, and HE promised to appear tomorrow and diagnose my problems. My sprinkler problems. He knows when he's in over HIS head, too, no doubt.

The whiny subtext in this is, how am I going to pay for this? I earn just about enough to get by but no more. I'm sadly aware that my sprinklers will break and my dental work will crumble and my car would like to--but cannot--last forever. I don't have any generous, but failing, relatives. I can't rob a bank because they have security cameras and I'm kind of self conscious about my hair right now. So tonight, instead of reading a soothing novel, I'm going to look online for information about refinancing my house.

This Sunday is Mothers Day. My son Sam will be in California on business and is driving up for a very quick hit-and-run visit, and then I have to travel out of town (work not pleasure) all next week. I'd whine about living out of a suitcase but that's a whole post of its own, so I'll save that one for later.

I'll let you know what happens; and thanks for joining me here...