Sometimes, I really don’t know how my Gump does it. He works more than anyone I have ever known. In the past ninety-six hours, he has worked sixty of them. I have kept the same hours as him, and even gone and hung out with him at his office (with my stash of reading material and chocolate) and I’m exhausted just spending all that time relaxing. He must be absolutely cream-crackered – which means knackered – which means so tired you will probably die. So there it is, a small and rare tribute to the hard-working Gumpster, and the introduction of a British word to my non-Brit readers.
Meanwhile, at my house (Debtwood), we have begun week three of what I like to call “The dust storm and plumbing debacle of 2016″. Three quarters of our home’s foundation has now been jack-hammered, beaten on, dug in, to expose all the nasty, dirty, old, smelly pipes that have lain untouched under the house for thirty years. This has to be done because our main exit pipes, that carry all the nastiness out of the washer, sink, disposal, dishwasher, toilets etc. etc. does not work properly and backs up regularly. This means the entire pipe has to be pulled and a new one inserted. It is a HUGE job, and full of obstacles like water lines, air ducting, and other assortments of tubing. Fortunately they have only exposed pipe and not an old Indian burial ground, rodents or snakes. Unfortunately there has not been any buried treasure unearthed either, but at least they are finally making some progress and so far the only casualty has been a set of missing car keys.
Good Things about massive plumbing jobs….No housework, cooking, laundry for duration of job
Bad Things about massive plumbing jobs…….No water, no kitchen, living life in one room, no husband (he’s at work)
Every single day for the past two and a half weeks I have had two plumbers in my house. Their names are Robert and Brandon, and they have become my children. I feed them brownies and I buy them breakfast on Friday’s (yes, they have been here long enough to form a routine with me). In return they giggle every time I say a cuss word, which seems to increase on a daily basis, and they have invited me to hang out with them at the weekends. These boys hunt hogs, drink moonshine and call me ma’am. They also eat all the cherry flavoured Starbursts that I don’t like.
My home resembles a ghost ride at the fair. There are curious sheets of plastic hanging from various ceilings in many rooms, like you see on horror movies where the demented killer is chasing a woman through the house, and she’s getting caught in the long flowing sheets of plastic…and they’re choking her to death…then she gets stabbed, and the blood smears down the dirty plastic….. okay, I probably shouldn’t have even thought that, because now I am going to be very scared in the evenings by myself, because have I mentioned that Gump is always at work?
It’s also really dirty here. Every crevice, every nook, every molecular cell inside this abode is now coated with a tidy, even, brown layer of dust. Each plate, dish, utensil, towel, carpet, book, light bulb absolutely everything is dusty. Wow, I would really hate to see what my lungs look like at the moment. The upside is that my face looks dirty but younger! Ain’t no wrinkle filler better than nature’s own product baby! Maybe I should bottle it and sell it on eBay?
Happy Labor Day, or as they would say in England Jolly Happy LaboUr Day. But they wouldn’t actually say that as they don’t have that particular holiday in the UK. The definition of the word Labour in the UK is it means either a Political Party, or the process of giving birth – both being pains in the proverbial arse.
Meanwhile, back in Tulsa, my merry plumbers skipped off into the Labor Day sunset to horribly maim hogs, leaving me (Gump was still at work…) and no kitchen, with miles (okay that is a slight exaggeration) of exposed pipes in all their smelly glory. And then guess what happened? We had a bloody earthquake. That’s right, lil’ ole Tulsa (earthquake capital of the USA) decided to shake, rattle and roll. Who knew that San Francisco was really in Oklahoma and was secretly called the town of Pawnee? I bloody didn’t. So all the pipes had a little ‘wobble’ to ensure all the remainder of lovely fetid fumes that were still locked into the dirt could now rise like a stinky phoenix and clear my sinuses – ugh!
Of course, to add insult to bad smells and earthquakes and living in one room and washing dishes in the bathroom, I had my Colonoscopy and Endoscopy. So, I got to fast for 36 hours (Gump was working) and then drink that nasty, icky drink that is like Liquid Plummer for your stomach, and then do the toilet dance while my house was full of Starburst-eating hog hunters. Oh, and did I mention that sometimes the water was off so I couldn’t flush? Well my toilets might not have flushed but my face certainly did.
And yet, with all the chaos, turmoil, starvation, no kitchen….have I lost weight dear readers? Have I hell. In fact, the day after all my tests I had actually gained. Seriously? Maybe dust is fattening?
Jude (in need of a shower)