Day before yesterday I wrote that I needed a plumber and had to wait until the next afternoon for one to come. Wrong. He rescheduled and didn't come out until this morning. He and his assistant spent their first hour here digging and bailing water, another ten minutes locating a break in the sewer line at one spot and a collapsed pipe in another place, and the next hour calculating the charges that will add up to a four-digit bill by the time they finish fixing it tomorrow. Ouch!
Home ownership is not for the faint of heart. One has to be brave in the face of broken pipes, air-conditioners that zonk out in August, and roofs that are vulnerable to southern storms. But if you love the nest you've built there, you do the same thing you do when your child is sick or your dog develops a limp: you buck up, arrange for help, and pull out your wallet with a smile on your face because you'rs so appreciative that someone is helping you make things right again.
I'm especially grateful that this round of plumbing issues didn't disrupt access to running water or flushing toilets. When a plumber shows up to fix those kinds of problems, it's hard to stop myself from kissing him.