Friday, the Shiteenth

Friday, the 13th marked our sixth day of plumbing issues. No one was happy, and I was extremely... uncomfortable... as I waited for the plumbers to arrive at 9:00 a.m. I mentioned the "healthy turds," but did I mention that I'm also very "regular." That "regular" time is somewhere in the 7:00-9:00 am block of time, generally speaking, and there was nowhere to go to the bathroom without going door to door asking to use one of the neighbors' bathrooms. No, I didn't do that!
Fortunately for everyone else in my family, they all had somewhere else to go off to to take care of business.

Let me fill in some details here while we wait for these plumbers to show up, okay?
"My" plumber is a guy who owns his own company. He's mostly a one-man show in a van, though he does sometimes have a guy who works with him. When he suggested "calling in the big guns," he recommended a larger company, a company that has a lot of plumbers working for it. More equipment and all of that jazz. The guy they sent out to do the estimate on Thursday was their No. 2 guy.
Yes, seriously, that's what the woman I spoke told me when I called, "We're sending you our number two guy."
He did the estimate but, he told me while he was here, he would not be the one to come on Friday to do the repair. He was going to be unavailable. The guy who was coming out, with his assistant, was somewhere farther down the chain.

9:30 arrived but there were no plumbers.

They finally showed up at something like 9:47. No, I wasn't watching the clock!
Not exactly.

The guy comes in and looks over the situation. He wants to get under the house to look at the pipes which is a whole separate challenge, because, guess what, there's no access point to under our house from outside the house. What kind of crazy is that? The only way to get under our house is through a trap door in the closet in my daughter's room, so I had to clean out the bottom of her closet so that the guy could stick his head down there and look around for two minutes. Yeah, she wasn't happy with me for that.

The end result of all of this was to tell me that the guy who made the estimate was wrong and that the job couldn't be done except to do it this other way which... basically, he wanted to double to triple the cost of the high end of the original estimate. Which makes me wonder how much of that he gets to keep personally, because he sold it hard. But fuck that! None of what he was saying aligned with anything that "my" plumber had said and certainly didn't go along with what the No. 2 guy had said. Needless to say, I was angry.

I called the company with the intention of speaking with the owner only to find that the guy was already on the phone with the owner. So I asked the woman about what the guy was saying, about it being an impossible job, and whether it was impossible or just impossible for him. In short, was it outside of his skill set? She said, actually, it was entirely within his skill set; he just didn't want to do it. She told me that she would have the owner call me when he got off the phone the shitty plumber who was trying to scam me. But he never called...

I'm assuming that some sort of communication happened between the owner and the woman I had spoken with because, a few minutes later, shithead comes back in and tells me they'll do it for the original estimate, the high end of it, but, still.

Anyway, it was after 11:00 a.m. before any actual work started on the 9:00 a.m. appointment time after all of the shenanigans.

Which almost brings us to the end of this tale. They did get everything fixed by 5:00. -ish. Because it was actually 5:30 before the guy with the shitty attitude left because he tried to pull another set of shenanigans before leaving, but he lost that one, too, because I walked up on him on a phone call with the owner during which he was lying about things that had been said but, when he saw me, he had to quit lying and do what was agreed to.

The other thing of note has to do with what the previous occupants of our house DIYed our plumbing into. Remember how I said we had no clean out? As it turns out, we did have a clean out; it was just buried under a paving stone going into the backyard. Also, it was no good.
Look:

I'm realizing I should have labeled this drawing. heh
The vertical pipe there is the main sewer line running down to the street. The curved pipe with the arrows is the line coming out from under our house. What I want to call your attention to is the other "pipe" with the rings around it. That's not an underground pipe at all. That's the drain pipe from our roof gutter. That pipe is just inside the gate to the backyard, and, I'm assuming, that area would flood during our winter rains. I don't actually know, because the previous occupants attached a sheathe to the end of the pipe (the striped bit in the drawing) and tied it into the sewer line. Totally out of code, of course, which the plumber happily pointed out to me when they discovered what had been done.

So, see, the previous occupants dug up the sewer line, added a clean out (the circular "cap" at the top of the drawing) which only runs in the direction to the street and DUCT TAPED the gutter drain into the sewer line. I have to assume that the clean out was in case roof debris stopped up the sewer line, which has never happened to us, but I can see the danger in what they did. For us, though, the sewer line block was up under the house and the clean out we had there completely unusable. The plumbers had to take all of that out and put in a new line with a clean out that would both go under the house and down to the street. The gutter drain now drains into the yard like normal gutters do and, since it rained a few days after all of this was done, I got to experience the standing water just inside the gate. And there's no paving stone there, now, either, because that's where the new clean out is.

You know, if it's not one problem, it's some other problem, but at least we have draining water in our house again. Right?

Clinging (pictures I like)

Photo Month: Day 12

You Got Me (pictures I like)

Trinity 2015: Part One -- The Lake

Life is hectic right now. Mostly, it's softball, which I haven't talked about at all this season. I meant to, but, well, other things came up which proved distracting. One thing came up which proved distracting and which lasted throughout, basically, the whole spring season. We're in the summer travel ball season, now, which is much busier and hectic than the spring rec season. So, yeah, as I write this, I just got in from softball practice with my daughter, and I will be gone all weekend at a tournament. Fortunately, I just got back from vacation, so I have a lot of new pictures!

The annual vacation is to the Trinity Alps where, ostensibly, the Trinity lake resides. However, this year, there was no lake. Thank you drought.

Those two pictures are where there should be lake.

My wife and I walked down there pretty close to dark the first night and couldn't see the water and just kept walking and walking and never found it. We went back, later, on our bikes and rode down to where the water is, but I forgot my camera, so this is all you get. [Also, there's a longer story to all of that, but I don't really have time for it, right now.]

The second night we were there, a thunderstorm actually blew through, which was pretty cool, though it didn't do anything noticeable to the water level. It was the first thunderstorm for my kids (because we really don't get that kind of thing where we live). The lady who works in the store at the campground said that sometimes it thunders so hard up there that it makes their automatic doors open. That I would have liked to have seen.

At any rate, I'm running short on time, so I'm going to leave you with rain in the mountains.

Let's go for a walk... Part 6: In the Rain

I'm not a big fan of the rain. Okay, that's not exactly true. I actually like rain in-and-of itself, but I hate wet ground, and I'm not too fond of being wet unless I'm in the shower and the water is warm. Mostly, though, I just hate wet feet.

It's raining here this week. You know what that means? It means taking the dog out in the rain. Because she has to go out; although, my daughter has plans for a room inside the house with grass and trees and stuff so that we can just let the dog in there when she needs to go out. That way, the dog gets to go out while still staying inside, and no one has any mess to clean up, because it will be a nature room, and poop can be in nature. I'm not going to dissuade her.

At any rate, it hasn't rained much this year, so, although the dog has had to go out in light drizzles or misty rain, she hasn't had to go out in actual rain. Until today. She did not like it.

Of course, she doesn't understand when she's inside that it's raining outside, so she was very excited to get to go out, as she usually is. Until I opened the front door. She stood there. She looked up at me. She stood there. She never just stands there. I said, "Let's go." She looked up at me and, then, stepped slowly outside. Of course, this just put her on what passes for our front porch, so she wasn't out in the rain yet. She dashed over to the dry strip under the eaves of the garage and made her way down to the driveway. At that point, there was nothing dry left, so we ventured out into the rain.

She acted like I was punishing her. If only she could understand that I wasn't having any fun either. But we managed to slog our way over to the creek path. That was actually kind of nice. Well, not for her, but I like to watch the water, especially when it's high. I also like to take note of the various things floating in it. Today was nothing exciting, though, just a large cup from some fast food place. She didn't take long before she took care of her business, especially when compared to how long she usually takes, and we went home.

The time out in the rain, though, did make me think about weather and how it's used in story telling. How it's used to set mood, raise tension, act as metaphor. These are all good things. Except... well, except when they're not. There was a time when "it was a dark and stormy night" was not cliche, but you can't use that anymore (and you can probably blame Snoopy for that).

That may be the most difficult thing when using weather in stories. Avoiding the cliche. For instance, if I have to read one more time about a kid being lost out in a stormy night... or, you know, watch it in a TV show... I don't know. Do kids not get lost unless it's a dark and stormy night? Because that's what I'm coming to believe. "Uh oh... it's a dark and stormy night. We should go look for lost children."

The main thing is to allow the weather to be natural. I mean that in that it should fit the area your story is set in. I also mean that in that you shouldn't fill your story with sunshine and flowers until you get to the climax and, literally, out of the blue, have a horrible storm. With lost kids.

Weather can be a great tool. Rainy days can drive kids inside until they need to be rescued by and from man-sized cats in tall hats. They can also drive parents crazy until they have to send kids out to play in the "imagination room." Or lead them to discover enchanted wardrobes. It can wreck ships and snow your characters in. Just keep it believable. 

A Jumble of Nonsense

I was thinking. Yes, that's usually a sign that you need to duck and cover, but, sometimes, I just can't help myself. Usually, it happens on accident, and most of you are pretty far away, so you're probably safe. This time. These blog award things, theoretically, should spread geometrically and infect the whole blogging world. They don't seem to be doing that, so someone must have developed some sort  of anti-viral thing or something. I was also thinking that, for the first time in a really long time, I feel like one of those kids from The Cat in the Hat stuck inside staring out at the rain. I want to do something, but it's raining, still raining, raining to the point where they're beginning to wonder if it's going to have a negative impact on the grape harvest, this year. The house is all closed up (because of previously mentioned rain), 2/3 of the kids are gone, the one that's left is piddling around with Pokemon cards, I have no games on my computer, and I feel cooped up. Let me just say, that the feeling of being cooped up is not conducive to writing. Not even to writing blog posts. Unless, you know, you write about being cooped, which I'm  not going to do. Just thought I'd throw that out there.

>sigh<

In other news, I have some loose ends from this last week I need to tie up. Three loose ends to be precise. I suppose, with three of them, I should make a braid, but I never learned how to do that, much to my daughter's dismay. Not to mine, though. My daughter knows how to braid, but she's part of the 2/3 of the children that are presently missing, so I'm left to muddle through that on my own.

Thing Number 1:
I got tagged by Bess Weatherby to answer a bunch of questions. Part of this is to tag a bunch of other people, see what I was talking about? How is it that anyone escapes? Well, other than people getting re-tagged and stuff, but still! So here goes:

What do you think of when you the hear the word tag?
I think of TAG: The Assassination Game. I always wanted to play that. I mean really play that. I plotted about it with some of my friends when I was in high school, but we all went to different schools, so it just didn't work out very well.

Do you think you're hot?
Actually, no. I spend the vast majority of my time these days being cold. To the point of wearing a jacket in the house on a regular basis. Yes, I could turn the heat up and discomfort my kids, but it's just easier to wear the jacket and not deal with the whining. This is related to why I'm so tired of the rain.

Upload a picture or wallpaper that you're using at the moment.
Um, I can't really do that. I used to have a Star Wars wallpaper on my computer, but a little over a year again, my computer got sick, and I had re-format it, and I've never put most of the stuff back on my computer. This is also the reason I have no games.

When was the last time you ate chicken?
Two nights ago.

The song(s) you listened to recently.
I am, at this very moment, listening to Phil Collins. I wanted to listen to Genesis, but, for reasons that remain unfathomable, rhapsody.com wouldn't load the Genesis stuff.
I just want to add that I highly disapprove of all the anti-Phil sentiment that continues to run rampant these days. I realize that the market got over saturated with him back in the early 90s, but there was a reason for that. Because he was good.

What were you thinking as you were doing this?
Hmm... that I'd rather be playing Magic: The Gathering, at the moment. The fact that my younger son is sorting Pokemon cards isn't helping. Maybe even Risk, but he's right; it's just not fun with only two people.

Do you have nicknames? What are they?
Currently? No. Dad. I grew up Andy, not Andrew, which is me, now.

Tag 8 blogger friends:
Well, I'll do my best not to tag anyone else that's recently been tagged. And, I'm assuming, no tag backs.
1. Shannon Lawrence
2. Rusty Webb
3. Jennifer
4. Barbara Kloss
5. Alyssia Kirkhart
6. Marie Rearden
7. J R Pearse Nelson
and last but certainly not least, not by any means,
8. Michelle Davidson Argyle

Who's listed as No. 1?
Well, that's rather obvious to anyone that can read, which I'm assuming you can, since you're here. If not, well... Seriously, Shannon was the first person I thought of. I love her blog. I'm still waiting for her to let me read her book. I mean, she's read mine.

Say something about No. 5.
She lives down in my old stomping grounds. I empathize with the heat and humidity she's experiencing, at the moment, but I don't miss it. Well, maybe some of the heat, but certainly not the humidity.

How did you get to know No. 3?
Jennifer's blog is great. I love her sense of humor. And she always comments on my posts, so, really, how can I not like her? I strive to be included in her BBFs.

How about No. 4?
I stumbled across Barbara's blog post about Wizard's First Rule by Terry Goodkin and had to warn her away from the rest of that series before she got inescapably sucked into it.

Leave a message for No. 6.
Hey, how's it going? Thanks for letting me do that guest movie review. It was a lot of fun!

Leave a lovey dovey message for No. 2. [Hmm... maybe I should have planned out who would be where on the list a bit better than this.]
Rusty, I love the title of your blog. I've wanted to ask you this for a long time, but I've just been too shy, but how did you think of it? It's just sooo awesome!
[Seriously, I love your blog title.]

Do 7 and 8 have any similarities?
Now, see, I think 7 and 8 are getting the short end of the stick down here. They're both great ladies, and they both write, but this question doesn't leave any real room to talk about them. Individually. Everyone else gets a question all to themselves! Where's the fair in that?

At any rate, these are all great blogs. A few, well, 8, to be exact, of the handful of blogs I try to make sure I catch every post posted. Posting. Pasted? You should rush right over and check them out. And since I'm plugging their blogs, I'm also going to plug Michelle's book. Her book, Monarch, is due out in September. I'm looking forward to reading it. No, she didn't ask me to do that.

Thing Number 2:
Recently, I entered the Made of Awesome contest over at Shelley Watters blog. This was an interesting experience in that I got almost no comments on my entry. I don't know what this means. In perusing the other entries and posting comments on the ones I had comments for, I noticed that the typical entry had 30+ comments attached to  it, even for people who had fewer than 10 followers on their blog. I didn't see a single entry with less than 15-20 comments. Except mine. I got 3. Anyway...

The comments I did get centered on my first paragraph. Now, I like  this paragraph. I read the comments, I read my paragraph, read the comments, read my paragraph, waited for more comments, none came, and left my paragraph unchanged. Like I said, I like this paragraph. I'll even tell you why I like it, but not right now. Before I tell you why I like it and why I wrote it the way I did, I'd like some more feedback on it. Before, you know, I go to press with it. So to speak. Just because I like it doesn't mean it's in a state that's understandable for the general reader, so I'd like to know what you guys think about it. Pick it apart if you need to, but let me know what you think. I'm attaching the second paragraph with it, just so you can see where it's going, although, if you click on the tabby thing up top entitled The House on the Corner, you can read the whole first chapter. In advance, thanks!

The last bell of the school year is like waking up on Christmas morning. The last day of school waiting breathlessly in the dark straining for some sign of life out in the world so that you know it's time to get up. The bell finally rings and dawn breaks through the window springing you out of bed and three months of days lay glittering before you, presents waiting to be opened.

Thinking about those days of summer is all consuming at the end of the school year just like obsessing over Christmas presents all through the month of December. Planning. Anticipating. Day dreaming.

Thing Number the Last:
Because no one asked for it, but because I feel like posting it, I'm giving you the expanded scene from the Power of Tension blogfest. No, I'm not one of the finalists, but, then, I didn't expect to be. I glanced over many of the entries for that one before I chose which scene I was going to use, and all of the ones I looked at were... well, they all had either a vampire, werewolf, or hellhound stalking someone. Needless to say, I wanted something different. Not just not a vampire, but not a fight with a monster. So I chose a low level tension scene. One that was just creepy. I was very glad to see that not all of the finalists had to do with fighting some kind of monster. And, since I'm on the subject, here's my pick from the 6 finalists: The Bird Hater.
I didn't get as many comments on my piece for this blogfest as everyone else did, either, but I did, at least, break 10. heh Anyway... the expanded scene:

From the middle of the ceiling, hanging down on chains, was a large bowl. It was sort of cream colored and covered with little vines that started at the center of the bottom of the bowl and crawled up to the top. They had little leaves and flowers that curved off of them periodically. I guessed that must be the light, but I had never seen anything like it before. It made me want to try the lights or wake someone up to ask questions, but I knew if I did that, I wouldn’t get to explore on my own.

I decided, instead of opening any new doors, I would just use the one that was open. The one that led to the stairs. I stepped into the hallway and around the open door, pushing it almost closed. I didn’t want it to make any noise, so I didn’t close it all the way.

As I turned toward the staircase, a chill washed over me, and goosebumps broke out all over my arms. To the right of the staircase going up was another going down. The stairs started out wooden, just like the stairs going up, but, then, they turned to stone. The stairs just kept going and going down into the earth. Why was there a tunnel going underground in our house? I could feel the cold, damp coming up out of the tunnel and what felt like a long sigh. Without wanting to, I stepped down the first step. And, then, the next.

There was a low moan from the dark, and my heart started beating faster. My skin chilled as I broke out in a sweat. I didn't want to go down there, but I took another step anyway. I could almost feel the darkness on my skin as I took another step down. And another. And...

And I stumbled forward into a door, because there were no more steps. I was standing on a little tiled floor at the bottom of a short staircase in front of a door leading out of the side of the house. I felt weird. Kind of dizzy. Like I wasn't all the way in my own head.

Well, there you have it. I suppose I've rambled enough, too much, for one post. I hope a few of you held on all the way to the bottom.