Calamity S. Jane

Gainesville

What a calamitous day. Started with Bill snarling as he left the house,"Call a plumber. Water is pouring out of that @#$! shower!" I couldn't tell where at first-- just the usual damp seepage-- but eventually found the flood: in the closet along the wall facing the bathroom. We've had floods in there before, but thought it was a leak in the roof-- and that was one of the main reason we had the roof replaced earlier this year. But it didn't help. Obviously, since it never was the roof.

And what a gawd-awful mess in there. Bill has a habit of just tossing clothes he intends to get rid of onto the closet floor. Soggy messes of discarded ties, socks, a shirt or two-- plus numerous pairs of shoes, all covered with colorful assortments of mold and mildew. I had to get all of it out of there so the plumber could see what's going on. The corner of the room with the Soloflex is now a toxic waste dump. So much for my efforts to make a nice peaceful space in there.

As I suspected, the shower pan (i.e., the floor) is the culprit, and needs to be replaced. Which means tearing out and replacing ALL the tile. The tile baseboards around the rest of the bathroom, likewise. The estimate the plumber gave for this was $5600.00! Bill and I agree that for that kind of money we should go ahead and remodel the entire bathroom. The cabinets in there are made out of some cheap particle board that has been disintegrating for years, and stinks to high heaven. The wallpapered wainscot is peeling, and there is a mess of mildew over the painted upper walls. I am NOT one of you Soares types that enjoys remodeling! Hate it. No feel for it. No patience with it. But has to happen.

My Twitter pals continue to be all riled up about attacks on the idea that tends to be the focus that binds us: Library/Web 2.0, and the Weinberger book, Everything is Miscellaneous. The meme is very threatening to certain print-entrenched vendors and librarians. Twitter is not an ideal vehicle for this kind of ... not debate exactly-- more like food fight. It is kind of exhausting trying to keep up, as many links are involved.

Dinner should have been easy-- what could go wrong with an abbreviated Steak Diane, blanched broccoli and bag salad? Well, for starters, one could put the thawed-under-running-water steaks back into the fridge, rather precariously, as one had not gotten around to purging said fridge in a timely manner. Which is what I did. When I removed them, one of Sandy's beautiful glass bowls filled with way-past-it Crab Newburg came with it, and shattered on the floor. While I stopped to clean up the mess, the butter I'd already started melting for the steaks proceeded to burn. (The house still smells like burnt butter.) For my next mistake, I did not toss out the burnt butter, but went ahead and used it, thereby destroying the subtle flavors of the Diane.

What to do for a finale? Well, how about serve the steaks on a dinner plate instead of the usual serving platter, and when putting it on the table, allow it to tip and pour hot greasy Diane all over the table? Oh what a swell idea!

Good to have you posting again, Mom. When are your helpers scheduled to return? It would be good to mark your FL calendar with who comes when and what they will do. We all admire your pluck, but know you need regular professional assistance if you want to keep living at home by yourself. I do worry about you. I realize you are Iowa-stubborn, and think you can go it alone, but please: let people help you remain independent.

And now I probably should get flat and sleep some before any more calamities befall this particular Jane.