Your computer isn't broken; I haven't Driveled for awhile. Even today, I don't have anything really exciting to talk about, but I want to tie off some loose ends.
I know I've needed to do this for awhile. But, as sometimes happens, days pass without the slightest desire to write (more so when Harry is home a lot as he has been) and then one morning my muse smacks me upside the head instead of allowing me to snooze more. Then I must get up and put down whatever writing thoughts won't let me be. So it was this morning, and here are those thoughts.
The septic system was finally replaced a few weeks ago. The same guys who came out and rescued me after Drivel: Bahamas by unclogging my plumbing came and tore up the back lawn (it was weeds anyway) by driving a series of ever-bigger trucks back there. First, a backhoe dug a hole down to the tank. (The old septic tank was not much bigger than a coffin, surprisingly.) Then a pumper truck emptied what it could (some of the mess in there was sludge from having so much dirt fall in). Then the backhoe crushed the old tank, and dug a new hole, using the dirt from that to fill in the old tank's spot. Then the mothership arrived with the new tank. Wow! What a big tank and what a big truck to get into our little back yard. After everything was in, they brought in a dirt truck and used the backhoe to remove the excess dirt (the new hole was bigger - much bigger - than the old hole) as well as the mountain we'd had in front of the aviary for years. The back yard is now flat - and mostly bare dirt.
The septic system had been crippled for quite awhile, since we noticed that one of the covers had fallen in. Our constant stream of storms has kept the backyard too wet to allow the trucks access.
The generator was hopefully fixed yesterday. We won't know for sure until the power goes out for real, which may very well not be until rolling blackouts in mid-summer or we get violent winter storms.
It's been broken for longer than the septic tank (Drivel: Memory Pool), and the shop we bought it from has done some excellent work on getting it fixed under warranty, even though it had been in service for two years. The hours on it were minimal and it should not have died.
The repair guy replaced some part in the motor, first. That wouldn't work. So he got a different part (each of these steps took days or weeks and I may have them slightly out of order), and that made the motor work but it wouldn't power the house. So he got a different part and that one turned out to be totally wrong for our generator. He got the right part, and it still wouldn't power the house. So then he started getting parts for the generator. Eventually, all the parts meshed and yesterday the motor ran and the generator powered the house when the electric house switch was turned off. So next outage, we should be good to go.
For my death threat from Drivel: Bahamas, I guess that one's still loose, as I'm still around. I had the cops out to report it, based on the goading of one of my coworkers. Two policemen showed up at the house and asked a bunch of questions: Had I pissed off my boyfriend? Did I have any known enemies? Did I have that kind of money available? Did I feel threatened?
Well, no. I felt kind of stupid, really, talking about spam email to these obviously bored cops. At least I did until I'd answered no to that last question. Then one of the policemen pulled out his billy club. For a brief moment, I felt very threatened. What if they were in on it? What if it was all real? What if these guys were the hired guns? AAAAaaaaah! And then the man took his radio out of his belt, too, talked into it, and put both things back. The feeling and thoughts faded and went away, but that bugged me for awhile anyway. Why did he take his club out? (Later I told someone at work, who told me the belts often don't have enough "give" for doing things and he probably took the club out to relieve that pressure so he could get his radio out. Oh.) I decided I watch way too much cop drama on television.
Shortly after the police visit, a story hit the papers about this email scam and it turns out I'm cheap; some of them were asking for $100,000 and my "contract" was only $15,000. Sigh.
Let's see, what else is loose? Oh, yes, the shrimp from Drivel: Dangerous Living has disappeared. I didn't notice exactly when, but sometime he was no longer in the aquarium. No doubt he was lunch for the anemone, his best buddy.
The clicker search is still ongoing. I cannot tell, since the stand shift (Drivel: Moving Day), exactly where the noise is coming from and it occurs less often, but the clicker is still alive and well in the tank.
I think that ties up anything dangling. If I missed anything you're dying to hear about, let me know. And as a bonus, here's one that wasn't dangling at all.
The not-so-new job that I have, with my no-longer-new team, comes with some duties that I don't particularly like. (Don't they all?) One of these duties is rotating the facilitation (leading) of the monthly floor meeting. I did mine about a week ago. I had a Fluff Coordinator, because I don't *do* fluff, and these things are mostly fluffy. Rah, rah, we rock.
Our theme was "Green," and I think we did a good job on it. Being in front of the entire building's population (with a microphone!) was not so bad once I was up there. Before, I was nervous, and after, I was exhausted. Still, it wasn't nearly as bad as I'd expected, and I have a feeling that was mostly because I have such a great team. They helped (not just my Fluff Coordinator) organize, think of ideas, implement, and make sure the regular work got done while I was doing the immense amount of work needed to pull the whole event off.
You know what? We do rock. Rah, rah!
Copyright 2014 Michelle Hakala