Winning at the game of life

A few days ago we noticed that our hot water heater which had, for a little while, been leaking in a sort of unnoticeable-most-of-the-time way, simply leaving tiny puddles on the shelf above the dryer, began leaking in a the-rug-is-soaked-and-damnit-I-got-my-socks-all-wet kind of way and so we had to take action. Since the problem got bad over the weekend when service providers in Chapel Hill take a break, and we decided that the issue didn't deserve an "emergency" call to the emergency number because, first of all, our basement (we don't even have a basement) wasn't flooded or anything like that, and secondly, J came up with a solution for the time being. First he put a towel around the base of the heater and draped a corner of the material over the shelf. He put a tupperware container on top of the dryer and under the towel, thus, when the towel became saturated, the water would drip down to the corner hanging over the shelf and into the tupperware. When the tupperware got full, we'd dump it and replace the sopping towel with a dry one.

The obvious problem was that the tupperware wasn't an ample enough vessel for extended duty. I mean, we didn't want to be waking up every couple of hours to dump this thing and if left unattended there would be a small flood (I, admittedly, didn't really care either way if you want to know the truth - if the rug got really wet over the course of a few days before the plumber could get there, well, it would dry, right? This is sometimes a crucial difference between J and I in the face of household mini-emergencies - I can be impatient and willing to sacrifice important material features, like, say, the rug, while J enjoys a good challenge, especially when it means protecting items from being destroyed, and especially when it means coming up with complex and brilliant plans, as illustrated below).

So when the boy came running from the back room saying, loudly, "Come here. Come here! I rigged something!" I figured I was in for a treat, basically the kind of treat that mean I wasn't going to have to carry sodden towels around the house anymore, at least for a few hours. But J was beyond exited, for using a pink dustpan and an old trashcan, he'd thought up something brilliant and he couldn't wait to show me.

The water dripped from the towel into the dustpan, delicately balanced on the dryer, down the dustpan handle and into the large, plastic trashcan and we wouldn't have to tend to it for a long, long time, if ever. I'm not much for logic and physics or coming up with solutions to problems that don't involve calling and paying an expert, but I must say, it was sort of sad when the plumbing guy showed up today to fix the leak and we had to dismantle the thing. It had been a nice little foray into surviving with only the means available to us. Our own "Swiss Family Robinson." Of course, I had nothing to do with it besides being mildly supportive when the invention was unvailed, but give me an empty pantry except for a box of spaghetti and a few bottles of dried herbs and I can make a decent dinner, something a person could live on at the very minimum, and that's called teamwork, and utilizing our strengths, we thrive.

Weekly dare

I've had time on my hands before. Specific time in specific places that maybe I didn't make the very, very most of. I would never say I regret how I spent my time. That's too harsh a word because I don't regret any of it. I don't regret, for instance, spending many a weekday evening in the pub with my friends when I spent a semester abroad in London, rather than touring castles. I don't regret getting in trouble with my friend Mark for talking through classes in high school, rather than, you know, actually learning chemistry, which might have gotten me a better grade point average and so on and so on. I don't regret all that homemade soap I made, or all the episodes of "Sex and the City" I watched, last time I was unemployed, because, first of all, it's a fun story to tell, and second, sometimes downtime - a lot of it - gets you exactly where you need to be after all. Now I've got time on my hands again and am beginning to fill in the gaps. With volunteering and possible part-time writing work on the horizon, I'm on the verge of feeling better about my schedule, although I'll need a lot more going on before I feel busy, and therefore, truly productive again.

But before I go rushing off this way and that I thought it might be good to take a step back and do a few of the things I've always thought might be fun. The things we categorize as "things we should really do," but never do. Since money is a factor, I'm not talking about a trip to Paris, which J and I should really do, but things like visiting a state park I've never seen before, or checking out a class at UNC, just for kicks. Going to the planetarium for a midday show. Touring the botanical gardens. Seeing a new beach or mountain town. Viewing an art exhibit - maybe something I'm not even, initially, that interested in. Attempting to spot a Painted Bunting before my husband does, and then play it off like I really wasn't that impressed by it, just to get to him a little.

Just kidding about that last one. Sort of.

I thought that perhaps in the interest of involving my readers, which I've tried to do before regularly, and somewhat unsuccessfully (the essay contest, and haikus, both items I should bring back, I think) I would ask all of you to provide me with a weekly dare. I fear the word "dare" might have some of you excited that you can tell me to walk down Franklin St. naked, singing, because, I told you to dare me so COME ON, JUST DO IT! But that's not what I'm getting at. My thought is that you guys might have some great ideas, or dares, for a girl with a lot of time on her hands, and I promise, in return, to provide pictures and a riveting, or at least explanatory, review of my adventure.

I'm thinking along the lines of worthwhile activities that will help me learn more about the world, or help me meet some interesting people and see some interesting places, rather than acts that will get me attention. I will not, in the course of my dares, 1) do anything solely to get attention 2) hurt anyone's feelings 3) compromise my morals or 4) go into the woods on my own, or do anything involving graveyards or, basically, anything that could be the first scene of a horror movie.

I'm putting myself in your hands. Give me some good ideas in the comments, and I promise to follow through, and tell you all about it.