The faucet hose was delivered yesterday and today Ed installed it. The electricians who discovered the leak (Ed had not been able to see it) had tried to return our old faucet to some kind of function by wrapping electrical tape around it (no, Jeri, they didn’t use aluminum foil first). But that didn’t work, the leak was still huge (would fill a smallish bucket in 30 seconds) and I made do with the garden hose dragged into the house and over the counter into the sink.

The tape was the first obstacle Ed encountered and he couldn’t get it off easily. I got him a razor blade. His curses rent the air for quite some time and he wouldn’t let me try when I offered and said, “DON’T HELP ME!!!” So I went on about my business but, of course, he would need this or that and I would dutifully run and get it for him. Because I knew he’d go berserk if I were unavailable for fetch duties, I delayed my walk.

Then more curses due to dropping a washer behind the stove so he moved the stove and I was treated to several years of bug debris and other delectable bits and pieces. I cleaned it all out and told him that it gave me a sense of fulfillment to know the area was now clean. It actually does.

Ed’s tolerance for things that thwart him can best be described thus: It is 4 a.m., we are starting out on a trip. We are five minutes out on the big road, no other cars in sight for hundreds of miles. Suddenly, another car backs out of a driveway and into the lane right in front of us. Ed cries, WHY ME GOD! Once I carefully explained to him that God hates him and looks for ways to try his patience. I said “You are the only one God does this to. You should feel honored he has noticed you, even if this is a burden. Trust me, God doesn’t even know about all these other guys in the traffic jam. You and only you are his target.”

Anyway the faucet works, no leaks, I was appreciative and then to “wind down” Ed went out on to the grounds to pick up branches and such. I’m happy he feels up to it since he has been very much without energy while recovering from the pneumonia.

Meanwhile, I am about to go by Susan, the tailor being and check on Sally her small white, curly haired dog (I forget what breed but similar to Lhasa Apso). Sally was not feeling well yesterday. She always greets me. I had to sit on the floor to reach inside her little house that Susan keeps in the shop so I could pet her. This is very unusual because Sally usually comes running out when she hears my voice. Susan is convinced Sally is really a cat in a dog suit, since she never comes when called. Susan might be on to something.

xx, Teal