I worked today on finding a piece written for young people about colors--that didn't rely on illustrations to convey any of the information.
hahahahahahahahahahaha
hmm.
Otherwise today was a flurry of kid-related stuff. Swim lessons and playdates and cub scouts and stuff. During the hours I was home womaning the fort, we also had an electrician come over to complete the garbage disposal project.
The garbage disposal. Ah, yes.
It was supposed to be an easy project. The house came without a true garbage disposal (there's one in the dishwasher, but it's only meso-effective and it's useless for most kitchen-related tasks). The more we live here the more we realize we are not a family that copes well without a garbage disposal.
So when we received Sears gift cards for Christmas, we bought one.
I was going to install it myself because my experience with Sears installation is perfectly imperfect. That is, I haven't personally experienced even one well done and off the top of my head I haven't heard any of my friends gush about their positive Sears installation experience.
So I don't, as a rule, have the same store from which I bought any item that requires someone other than me to install it do so. I can think of three exceptions and two involve carpet. The third involved a door. None of these things had wiring or plumbing or "mileage surcharges."
We found one of the best plumbers we've ever had by having him install our dishwasher in Minnesota. He was great.
So. So I thought I could do it myself--and I would have if I could have found solid enough information on how to install a disposal in a double-sink. I did find a set of directions online, but for whatever reason, didn't like them enough to attempt them. The unit itself only came with directions for a single sink. So I waited until we couldn't stand it anymore and called a plumber.
They arrived with a new disposal. I pointed to *my* new disposal and said "they didn't tell you that I already had a disposal?" No, they said, "they" didn't. But they seemed to think my disposal was better than theirs anyway, so--good call. They installed it (and a new outside spigot) and I got a bill for just under $300. But still didn't have a running disposal. There was no power under the sink. The dishwasher is hard wired and there's no outlet under the sink.
So I called an electrician. I don't have the bill for that, but lets assume it's another $300 because he ran a line clear to the switch box and was here aaaaaaaaaaaallllllllllllllllllllllllll afternoon.
All I can say is that this bugger better grind bones and run 25 years before it dies.
So Saturday is April 15th. Anyone other than me really, really depressed about this? I just transferred a bunch of money from savings into checking in preparation for writing The Check. It makes me physically ill thinking about it.
I had a very nice chat this afternoon with my baby sister who is getting married in July. That took my mind off the financial pain for a bit.
Plans are coming along nicely for Karen's baby shower at the end of the month. The Sister Party (not my sisters--my Aunts--but I'm hosting the Sister Party this year) is the same weekend and things are coming along nicely for that.
So of course Emily is showing definite signs of getting ready to go into heat. Charming. My aunts will never come back.
And on that note--I'm off to bed.
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A poem to help my sister, or to torture Arthur Dent:
Orange is the color of fruit that you peel,
Red is the color of trucks with long ladders,
Brown is the color of elephant seals,
Green is the color of snot if it matters
Blue is your color if you hold your breath,
Yellow the color of fright,
Black isn't really a color at all,
but rather the abscence of light.
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