Bill says that with me there’s no such thing as a short story, so please, bear with me.<\/p>\n
This morning I was going to tell a simple story about the current state of our disorganized affairs. \u00a0I wanted to start it with a song which meant I had to tell another story first and then another one before that. \u00a0So here goes:<\/p>\n
Not surprisingly, there are big differences between how people on either side of the country communicate. \u00a0I write on the West Coast, the Left Coast as we call it around here, and my editors are all on the East Coast. \u00a0Differences often surface when editors object to something in one of my manuscripts. \u00a0The best example of that was when I mentioned a local club that featured country western music. \u00a0My then-copyeditor sent me a notice saying it was country and western\u00a0music. \u00a0I wrote back saying, “If it were country and western,\u00a0it would have to be s— and kicking country and western music.\u00a0 But it isn’t. \u00a0It’s s—kicking, country western music.” \u00a0(When I started reading Zane Grey books in fourth grade, I quickly managed to decode all the cuss words that were expressed as first letters only with appropriate dashes following. \u00a0I’m sure you managed to translate the missing letters in that previous passage.) \u00a0And, just to be clear, my version–country western music–is the one that showed up later in the printed book. \u00a0In other words, Author 1\/Editors 0!!<\/p>\n
So I was going to start this post with a few words from an old country western song:<\/p>\n
Gloom, despair, and agony on me.<\/p>\n
Deep dark depression, excessive misery.<\/p>\n
If it weren’t for bad luck,<\/p>\n
I’d have no luck at all.<\/p>\n
Woe, despair, and agony on me.<\/p>\n
And what’s this all about? \u00a0We’re still dealing with the after effects of our flood. \u00a0What happens to a house when 180,000!!! gallons of water wanders through places where it shouldn’t be isn’t pretty. \u00a0The ServePro folks came and tried to dry out the crawlspace, but it turns out some of it wasn’t dry-able. \u00a0All the tile in the bathroom, including the shower and the shower pan had to come out. \u00a0By then, water had wicked up through the wood on the outside wall of the house which promptly swelled up and wrecked the recently (two years ago) applied coat of stucco. \u00a0Yesterday, that part of the outside wall had to be stripped off. \u00a0A visitor who came by late yesterday afternoon said, “It keeps looking worse and worse. \u00a0When is it going to start looking better?”<\/p>\n
I keep asking myself that very question. \u00a0When???!!!<\/p>\n
So last night, late in the evening, after all the worker bees left, Bill and I were going to share a late supper. \u00a0I put a potato into the microwave and pressed cook. \u00a0Ran like a charm–at least it seemed to. \u00a0The light came on; the potato went round and round. \u00a0Except, when the microwave turned off with the cheerful announcement that “Your food is ready,” the potato was still stone cold. \u00a0We knew right then that our twelve year-old microwave had finally bitten the dust. \u00a0We had poured glasses of wine in anticipation of eating our evening dining experience. \u00a0After putting the potato in the regular oven to bake, we went ahead and drank the wine. \u00a0By the time the potato was finally done, it was after nine. \u00a0We said “Fahgettaboudit” and went to bed, like bad little kids, without any supper. \u00a0The wine was good, though.<\/p>\n
So I was in bed, sleeping. \u00a0Bill was awake, worrying and reading his iPad. \u00a0He woke me up giggling, sometime around midnight. \u00a0Because some of you may need a laugh today as much as we do right now, I’m going to include the link in the post he was reading. \u00a0It turns out some of the things the auto-correct lady does on Instant Messages really are hilarious. \u00a0For instance, this morning when I was trying to get Siri, the auto-correct lady, to direct me to Frederick’s Appliances in Redmond, she wanted me to go to Rick’s for some reason, instead.<\/p>\n