24 September 2007

From the Domestication Diaries

Well, after using one extremely large sized Liquid PlumR Gel, industrial strength plunging (building my upper body strength, who needs free-weights when you could stay home and plunge away?), and in desperation, a partial bottle of windex type blue ammonia (sure they SAY not to mix household chemicals), the rest of an old bottle of greased lightening, and a mostly full bottle of mean green shower stuff, and OH! yeah, some CLR (cuz i figured, if it is strong enough to clear up the calcium, lime and rust deposits then the shits gotta be strong enough to eat thru the wad of paper maiche i imagine is clogging the pipes), and over 12 hours...my standing sink water was not much lower and I admitted defeat.  I went to see my landlord who absolutely loves me, cuz I present some of the most challenging needs evah.  Then I went to Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University, week three (i always hear and say that with a deeper more booming voice).  When I got home, about twenty minutes, I noticed my landlord driving off the farm (perhaps to town and a store?) and pulling into my yard/parking area, I noticed a huge ladder with extra stabilization tubes propped against my trailer and extended up over the roofline.  This was sorta puzzling because I was thinking that all my plumbing piping and stuffs ran under the trailer (like most do) and not up along the roofline.  If that's the case, I am flummoxed as to why I don't have standing water all the time, being that gravity has that pull and all.

When I came in the house (it's a trailer, but it's my home, dammit, so it's a house), I saw that my sink has a moist layer of crud that was the silt in the standing water, minus the standing water.  This is good.  But, all my stuff was placed in such a manner that made me again think that my landlord was not fleeing the farm, merely driving to town to get something crucially needed for resolving this particular problem.  So, I'm not sure what is what yet.

I do know that my landlord is probably thanking me for getting him outta the house on a school night.  Cuz by the time he gets home, the kids should be tucked into their beds, snoozing away.  At least that's the way I'm choosing to see things.  You're welcome, my landlord.

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