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Tap Dancing!
On February 5, 2016 by Speranza
THE WATER IS BACK ON!!
To say that we are elated would simply not be doing this feeling justice – as The General quipped “It’s like we’re living in a luxury resort now!”
Everyone (First World speaking) should experience this just to realize what brats we really are.
I am surprised how the feeling is lingering too.
I’m now in the habit of emptying excess water into plants, only using a bit of water for tooth brushing and really chocking the dishwasher to capacity.
(The dishwasher!! This time last week that was unimaginable!)
Darkness . Poetry . Wildlife
The Peace of Wild Things Or, How I am Feeling Today
On February 2, 2016 by Speranza When despair for the world grows in me and I wake in the night at the least sound in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be, I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds. I come into the
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The (Other) Bucket List
On February 1, 2016 by Speranza
Day 5 in a house without water.
I awoke this morning to find that I had completely lost touch with the Environmentalist Within and after extravagantly using no less than three Adult Towellettes ( instead of enduring yet another geriatric sponge bath), I then enjoyed my toast and peanut butter on a scrap of facial tissue (save the plate washing!) which the cat then decided to lick the residual essence off. As his tongue melted through the paper, completely spoiling his treat, he shot me a disgusted “Really-has-it-come-to-THIS” look which there was no mistaking.
And I do feel badly about the waste but don’t judge.
These are trying times.
Once more, when I opened the front door this morning some dear, so-far anonymous friends had made a drop (no pun intended) and there was a variety of different sizes of water left, some with the cautionary, yet comical designation of “Flush Only …”
The identity of said ‘AquaMarines’ is yet to be determined but so, so wonderful; for another day or two, we need not worry about carrying in buckets or schlepping mammoth-sized jugs from the hardware store, walking as though one of my legs is a good deal shorter than the other.