Another Weekend Slips By

It's surprising how quickly this year is going! Not only is it March already, it's the end of March already.  

The weekend began with a good riding lesson on Saturday morning. My Boy and I are pretty well confirmed in walk-trot-canter now. It used to be a very big deal to canter, but I have gotten used to it and now we are doing more complicated figures with changes of direction and changes of lead at the canter.

(About those changes of lead: If you think of a person skipping, when one leg strides out ahead and the other one follows, that's kind of what the horse's 2 pairs of legs are doing at the canter. There are rules about how and when that's done, and the rider is supposed to be in charge of what the horse's legs are doing -- so it's pretty complicated until you master it -- more or less, it's never perfect -- and then it's pretty easy but you are always trying to improve it. If you truly want to know more, there are about a jillion explanations online that you can find and review.)

I intended to clean my tack, shine my boots, and do some stable chores after my ride, but first there was the farrier to observe and chat with. He took off My Boy's shoes, trimmed his hooves, and nailed the shoes on again. I had a bunch of questions for him and it's always fun to watch what he's doing. It's no big deal for the horse -- or at least not for My Boy. He practically fell asleep while the farrier was working. I guess maybe it's like getting a pedicure -- so relaxing, right?

After that I kind of lost my momentum on barnwork. Instead I swung by the tack store to pick up bug repellant (summer is just around the corner, and that means flies, gnats, and mosquitos) and some blanket straps I had ordered (I'll be ready for next winter!), then did chores at home instead. I did some paperwork and filing, worked in the yard a little bit, watered my recently-planted vegetable garden (more on that another time), got cleaned up, did some laundry, played with the cats, made my grocery list, read more of my book, and went to bed early. That made for a satisfying and relaxing Saturday.

Sunday was quite similar. I talked on the phone with my dearest friend who is visiting friends and family in Australia. Yes, we remarked on how amazing it was that we could chat all the way around the world and it sounded like she was merely next door! I can remember on the infrequent international phone calls of the past -- very expensive, so very brief -- there was a bit of a pause while our voices traveled across the ocean on a wire. How far we have come, technologically speaking. But we still blather on like a couple of schoolgirls. That part hasn't changed at all!

After that I did more small chores around the house, refreshed the compost pile in the yard, harvested and ate 3 delicious tiny tomatoes, took myself out for a late lunch/early dinner of barbecue, dropped off some donations at the charity shop, did the grocery shopping, played with the cats, reviewed all the mail, read some more, and again went to bed reasonably early. 

I feel like I got a lot done, but I wasn't frantic about it. There is always more to do, and it's important to slip in time to enjoy things, too. 

Now for the work week! 

Gloomy and Good

It was a gloomy, breezy, drizzly weekend, and quite consistently cold for Florida. It actually looked like snow a couple of times, even though that was impossible.

I understand it's nothing for my northern friends to cope with a high of 53 degrees under cloudy skies -- but we Floridians are (as my mom would say, with disapproval) s-p-o-i-l-e-d by regularly warm temperatures under sunny skies.

This is totally true:

Of course, it was 80 just a few days ago, so we haven't had a chance to harden off.

I took advantage of a lazy Sunday to get some things done around the house (inside, of course) but then I was a bit stir crazy so I decided to drive out to the local you-pick farm for the season's first orange juice. Fresh, local orange juice is one of the great pleasures of winter, and today seemed like the perfect day for it.

The growing season is backwards here, so the farm's crops are gearing up. I picked some green beans and cut the world's most beautiful head of leaf lettuce. There was kale, and lots of sage and thyme, and flowers for cutting, but I saved those for another day. Everything smelled wonderful and green, and the chill was invigorating.

The farmer seemed happy to see me, although he said he'd had lots of customers -- rather unexpectedly, given the weather.

Five beautiful sandhill cranes were supervising the operation from a grassy spot near the tomato house.

Next time I'll take pictures!   

Sunday Catch-up

How I love a Sunday when I don't have to go anywhere!

After a few weeks of being super-busy, it's a relief to spend a day without any appointments. Yesterday I did laundry, cooked dinner in the crockpot, moved some books around, read a few magazines and some e-mails, gathered some things to donate and recycle, and generally enjoyed a nice stretch of unscheduled puttering.

All this reminds me of a saying I learned long ago from a wise counselor: "Remember that you're a human being, not a human doing."

I will certainly try to keep that in mind, even though today the busyness begins again.

Well, That Was Exciting

Apparently I didn't put out the birdseed on time yesterday morning. When I opened the back door onto the screened porch, there was a squirrel on the porch!

I'd noticed a few days ago that part of one screen had a few holes in it near the bottom. Now I know why. Apparently those holes were the size of a squirrel's nose. Yesterday they expanded to the size of a squirrel's body -- complete with a nose that can smell birdseed!

The squirrel dashed around the perimeter of the porch a few times and then scooted back outside the way he/she came in.

Now the birdseed is inside the house and the hole is blocked with duct tape.

No harm done, and both of us have a story to tell!

Small Scale Self-Sufficiency

It's a minor thing, but an accomplishment is an accomplishment, I say.

How minor? Well, the bathtub has been draining slowly and growing progressively slower over time. When the end of my shower found me ankle-deep in soapy water, I'd had enough. Bailing out the tub gave me the motivation and plenty of time to decide the problem needed fixing pronto.

I could have just asked Kayak Guy to do it, but because I'm flexing my independence muscles these days, I wanted to do it myself.

First, I identified how to remove the drain plug. Yes, there are different kinds. (Who knew?) No, I am not very mechanical.

Wishful thinking suggested it might be a gunk problem. A quick internet search revealed an easy and non-toxic cure for that: baking soda and white vinegar. First I poured a coffee pot of boiling water down the drain. Then I added the baking soda and poured the vinegar over. What fun! It foamed like crazy and made a hissing sound. I felt like a mad scientist!

Between that and the fact that I didn't have to pour something hazardous like Drano down the drain (I can never forget that eventually what goes down the drain ends up in our rivers and lakes and oceans and ultimately in our drinking water), I was totally stoked that this was the right solution.

But alas, it was not enough. The final application of hot water went down very reluctantly. Which meant it had to be hair. Ugh.

Using a tool fashioned from a coathanger (I'm so resourceful!), I extracted a hairball the size of my fist out of the drain. (Aren't you glad this post has no pictures?)

Voila! Success! Cue the feeling of satisfaction all out of proportion to the task at hand! Now the water positively gurgles down.

I followed it up with another baking soda and vinegar cocktail, though, just to end on a good note. That part is highly recommended as a fun way to achieve a clean drain and a sense of accomplishment. The hairball part is only fun because it worked and it's over.

On Puttering

I like puttering. I should do it more often.

Tonight I have read the paper and put it into the recycling bin. I also put the stapler and scissors back where they belong, so they are no longer threatening to topple the various piles of paper stacked on my desk.

I also opened a book I received in the mail and added it to my lists, and put away the envelope, and shelved the book for future reading.

Then I spent an inordinate amount of time removing several stickers from another book, so I could add it to the bookshelf in appropriately pristine condition.

I consolidated my shopping and To Do lists from various scraps of paper into one larger scrap of paper.

How nice to be doing the little chores without stressing (or even thinking about, truth be told) the bigger ones that await.

Tomorrow I'll be back to work, with a bunch of tasks clamoring for attention, including quitting the gym (again!), opening a new checking account, some time at the library's book store, and then heading out for an evening event with friends in another town, and who knows what else.

But for now, I'm going to go read. There's no reason not to enjoy a few more hours of leisure, while I have the chance.

Meanwhile, Kayak Guy has spent his evening installing a new toilet in the guest bath. I'm exhausted just thinking about it.

Gotcha

Fun with the wildlife cam.

In the kitchen.

This Bit of Summer

I could have styled this photo better (just a slight turn would have covered the sink drain with a leaf, right?) but I just slapped and snapped. Obviously.

And so you get a microcosm of early summer: a surprise hydrangea, backed up with some organic tomatoes in a blue bowl, and a sweet potato and an onion in one of my favorites, a blue-and-white polka dot bowl.

The hydrangea isn't native and so I am inclined to look askance at it, except when it fluffs up these pretty pale blue or creamy white flowers, as if to woo me into having more positive feelings about it. When it's not flowering, the only reason I tolerate it is that Kayak Guy's dad probably planted it, an unknown number of years ago.

The tomatoes come from the nearby CSA and the downtown farmers market, and are so much more deliciously local than what the grocery store offers. The CSA is almost done for the year -- once this run of summer squash ends -- because the Florida growing season is essentially backwards from traditional garden timing.

The farmers market will soldier on through the hot months, but will switch over to okra and collards, two things that I like even less than hydrangeas and store-bought tomatoes. It may be a long summer.

I remember buying the polka dot bowl on a "junking" trip with a dear friend, about 25 years ago when I collected blue-and-white pottery and displayed it in an antique cupboard. Now all I really collect is books, being more inclined to shed most other possessions whenever I can. But I've kept a few of my very favorite pieces from the decorating days, and I've kept the friend, too.

Such small things, and so much pleasure from each of them. There's a lesson there somewhere.

Some Things I Never Expected

Someone once said, "The unexpected is always upon us." I thought it was Soren Kierkegaard, until I tried to Google it and came up empty. Maybe it was Samuel Beckett? It sure doesn't sound like him. So anyway, it's a great thought and I read it in one of my favorite books ever, The Feast of Love.

And that will have to suffice to launch into this list of surprises.

1.  I live in an over-55 manufactured home community. That's a fancy way to say trailer park, I guess. (Thank goodness my mother will never know. She would be horrified.) This was very much a practical move: Kayak Guy's parents retired here many years ago. When I met him, his father lived here; my lease was up soon after his father passed away in 2014, so I moved in. The following year, as we whittled our stuff down from His, Mine, and Dad's into a single Ours household, it made sense to consolidate here rather than adding a 4th household into the mix. We said we'd give it 2 years and see if we liked it here enough to stay.

We're still not 100% sure we'll be here forever. We still feel the alluring call of northern climes, and of life with acreage, and of waterfront property. Time will tell if we have another household on the horizon.

2. There's a lot to like here. I like living in a reasonably sized house that gives us quite a bit of privacy in the back, so we can sit on the porch in our bathrobes and enjoy a nice view onto an undeveloped 5 acre lot. I like that it's difficult to tell these aren't traditional houses. I like the many trees and the birds and critters that pass through the yard, to which we are adding more Florida native plants. I like the relative peace and quiet, balanced with the minor bustle of our historic little town that has a vibrant main street, a college campus, 3 engaging independent bookstores, a baseball team, a locally oriented business community, and a CSA farm. (That's our old courthouse, still used for government offices, in the top picture, and the view overhead in the back yard in the one below.) I like being close to the beach, to our friends, and to good places for our favorite outdoor pursuits. I like having a pool and a hot tub that someone else maintains, and a ready set of pickleball partners for Kayak Guy.

That said, there's a little too much bingo going on around here, if you know what I mean. Many of our neighbors are 20 years older than we are, and less active. And the self-segregation weighs on me once in a while.

2. There are 4 cats in this household. I'm not sure how that happened.

3. I have cognitive dissonance. I love baseball even though I do not love pesticides, fertilizer, and over-watering. And that's only one example of the complexity my brain works with every day.

4. I don't believe in acupuncture, but it works. Thank goodness I discovered our wonderful local community acupuncture clinic, where for $20 I can receive a treatment that makes my migraine go away. Instead of 3 days of agony, I get 60 minutes of resting in a darkened room with a few ultra-delicate needles inserted in key points, and voila. Despite my Western skepticism, all better now.

5. I had a heart attack. During our wedding reception. It made for a really memorable day and I hear it was a great party. Too bad Kayak Guy and I missed almost all of it (including almost all of this dessert buffet) because I was in the emergency room and catheterization lab. But that's a whole 'nother post.

Happiness Is . . . .

Discovering it's Opening Day of the local collegiate wood bat baseball league. The kids will play hard all summer only 5 minutes from the house. Although the first game snuck up on me -- meaning I missed the fun of counting down the days -- it's still an exciting moment to realize the first game is tonight and I didn't miss the first shot at summer baseball. Proof that I haven't totally lost my edge: I already have our season passes in hand, at a reasonable buy one, get one price.

Seeing two wrens busily building a nest in an empty box in the carport. They will join the cardinal family (3 babies!) and the red-bellied woodpecker family (1 baby) around the backyard feeders. The bird antics around here are enough to make me wish I had one of those cameras with a long lens.

Being employed for the rest of the summer (at least), after a bit of on again, off again, stop-and-go zigzagging between contract work, teaching, and having nothing lined up at all. Spare time during the summer is great. So is income.

Looking ahead to doing some reading challenges. I had a few very slow reading years while I was busy moving, dealing with a promotion at work, and planning a wedding, but I'm back now and looking forward to setting some reading goals. If you have any recommendations for challenges, I'd love to hear them.

Blogging again. It's a nice snapshot of life as it zooms by, and you've made me feel welcome with your comments. It's so good to be back!

The Problem with Coffee

The problem with coffee is you have to make it when you haven't had your coffee yet.

I'm trying to finish up a whole bunch of things before taking some time off, and that means I haven't been getting too much sleep. And that means I'm extra groggy in the morning, before coffee.

So far this week I've caught myself:

- Putting the coffee directly into the coffee mug, instead of into the coffee maker.

- Starting to run the water through the filter without putting any coffee in the filter.

- Trying to put the creamer into the cabinet instead of back into the refrigerator.

Maybe I should be glad I've been awake enough to catch myself doing these things! It would be worse to discover them after the fact.

Rat Update

Good news: I have two traps set under the stove and one trap set behind the drawers next to the dishwasher. (The Rat Man thinks my rats are squeezing in near the dishwasher plumbing and roaming from there.)

Bad news: Haven't caught anything yet.

Good news: Because the traps are under and behind things, they are inaccessible to cats.

Bad news: The traps are not inaccessible to Maggie the kitten.  This morning she was doing her kitten thing while I was organizing some books in the living room. I heard a horrible metallic crash in the kitchen and it took a moment for the horror to sink in: that sound could only be the sound of a trap going off under the stove!  I realized then that the stove is slightly pulled away from the wall, and Maggie has a habit of roaming the counter when I am not there to shoo her off, and  . . .  OH NO!

Good news: When I opened the storage compartment at the bottom of the stove, Maggie scampered out, very wide-eyed. 

Further good news: No trap was attached to any part of her anatomy.

That gives new meaning to the phrase "haven't caught anything yet."  Ah, perspective.     

Rats!

Literally.

First it was rats in my attic. Now it's rats in my kitchen.

Rats in the attic were signaled by the scampering of tiny feet overhead while I was trying to sleep. Just a nuisance, and one that a few visits from the Rat Man quickly resolved.

Rats in the kitchen are another matter entirely. I discovered dirt all over the kitchen counter and worse, little rat poops along the backsplash and on the windowsill.  I imagine them skittering behind the microwave and around the dishwashing liquid, and then pausing to gaze out the window, perhaps even resting for a moment under the sheltering branches of my miniature cedar tree.  It sounds very picturesque, doesn't it?

Well, not so much. They are a messy visitor.  Their ultimate destination in the kitchen is beneath the stove, where for some unknown reason they have torn out some of the insulation.  Removing the storage drawer created a window into a rat's world, complete with more poops and a smattering of insulation particles, plus a whole lot of cat hair and two missing cat toys.

Now there are traps under the stove and also behind the drawers next to the dishwasher.  So far they have been able to resist the tantalizing smell of peanut butter (this time it's Jif, although the Rat Man says they have no brand loyalty).

I feel bad about the traps, in a way. My little rodent visitors are just doing what God made them to do. But really, couldn't they please do it outside?

Vacationing

I didn't intend to take a vacation from blogging, but that's what I'm doing.

An event at work, volunteering, the writing coach thing, an out-of-town guest, and arranging to move house have combined to soak up every available minute of my time -- and then some.

Moving day is this Friday. My new house is adorable and the owners have hinted that they would consider selling it to me, if I like it after I've lived there for a while.

The box count stands at 25, with plenty more to go.  That's mostly books. I haven't even started on the kitchen.

I already know my new neighbors on either side -- both of them artsy folks who are doing interesting things with film, writing, and photography. 

I'll be much closer to the man in my life, which will cut down on driving time considerably.  There was quite a bit of angst (on my part, not his) associated with living in such close proximity, but it has all evaporated now that the moment is almost here.

The community garden is just a walk across the street and through the playing field portion of the neighborhood park, where the cricket league plays every Sunday. (I don't know anything about cricket, but I'll have a front row seat.) Garden Plot #41 will be mine shortly and I need to get it together for the fall planting.

Meanwhile, the local, wild swamp sunflowers are blooming and I managed to make time to go see them.  Yes, that's a hint of a rainbow, off to the right.

It's an extremely busy time, but it's "good busy."  I'll be back in a few days!

 

Reading Recommendations and the Lending Thing

Every so often friends force books upon me, which I hate. I hate being forced to borrow and read a book out of a sense of obligation, and I usually hate the books, too. (The most recent disaster was The Da Vinci Code and I thought that had cured me.)

Why is that? Why is it that people I like a lot in real life are hardly ever reading anything I am remotely interested in?

Perhaps I need to develop a more literary set of friends. But I like the friends I have, for many other reasons.

Perhaps I am a complete book snob. Guilty as charged!

Perhaps I just need to develop a fool-proof excuse to refuse. Ah, now we're onto something.

When I was in law school I managed to avoid a whole lot of questionable social obligations by simply saying, "I'm sorry, I'm just not accepting any invitations until after the semester is over." It worked like a charm. In fact, I kind of miss having that excuse at the ready. So I guess I could vary it by saying, "I'm sorry, I'm just not adding any books to the TBR list right now." I bet that would work.

But of course that is a big fat lie. Just the other day I was adding to the old wish list, not to mention bingeing at the bookstore on books that were pure impulse buys.

I have one of those forced-to-borrow books on the nightstand right now that I will at least attempt over the holidays, from a sense of obligation only. Sigh.

Meanwhile, the recommendations I get online from the bookish folks never create this same feeling of guilt and obligation. The extra layer of anonymity helps -- no one will ever know if I don't act on their "you must read this" recommendation. The idea of the review is essentially non-coercive: "I read this and here's what I thought. Take it or leave it." And frankly, a lot of the bloggers I read are rather book-snobbish themselves -- in a good way!

I guess that's probably the key: book blog friendships are primarily based on common reading taste. I might not have anything else in common with those folks in real life (though it seems pretty unlikely!). But my real life friendships begin with something besides books, so it's too much to ask, perhaps, that we share the same bookish tastes.

And then there's the borrowing thing in reverse. This same friend who recommended for me was also mildly offended when she asked to borrow a book of mine and I declined. Awkward, that.

We had dinner in a coffee shop that has a large section of ancient and modern classic used books for sale. (Not a Dan Brown in the lot! Boy, was I impressed!) She was asking me for reading recommendations, and of course I included The Feast of Love, and lo and behold, there it was on the shelf. I offered to buy it for her and she said, "No, you can just lend me your copy." And uh, no, I really don't lend out any book I want to get back, particularly one of my Top All Time Ten in all its hardback, first edition, mylar-covered glory. Of course, I didn't SAY that, but it may have showed on my face. I tried to cover with "Well, I'm really not much of a lender."

What I didn't say was that I learned a long time ago never to lend anything that you want to see again. Having no expectation of return removes all the potential for disappointment, but it means that some things are simply off limits for lending.

I guess that makes me a mildly selfish person and a bad friend. But a serious book owner.

Italian > Rat

The bug man told me I had a rat in my AC closet. I didn't believe him. 

But I let him set a trap anyway, because it made him feel better and because there was a teeny chance he was right. I felt a little bad, but really, if the rat would just live outside where he/she belongs, everything would be okay for both of us.

Guess what?  The bug man was right.  Apparently he's pretty good at his job.

Unfortunately, it took about a week for his vindication to occur.  During which time I decided he was definitely wrong, and stopped checking the trap.

Then, rather suddenly, there was this funny smell in the house . . . .  Uh oh. 

It lingered a bit after the clean-up, so I overrode it by making chicken cacciatore. Now the house smells like an Italian restaurant, instead.

R.I.P., little rat.

Telephone Man, uh, I Mean Woman

I recently decided to get a home phone. I was threatening to go over my cellphone minutes and it worked out to be less expensive to get a landline than to upgrade my cell plan. Such is modern life.

The phone guy came to install the phone.  He made kind of a big deal about having to drill through the wall to run in the cable, so we agreed to hook the phone up to the internet box.  That meant the phone had to live in a cabinet, which was not that big a deal for me.  In fact, I kind of enjoyed the Green Acres/Funny Farm echo of having a non-standard telephone experience.

I had purchased a basic phone for the occasion.  I had not purchased the batteries the phone required for caller i.d.  The day after the installation, I changed to a longer cord (to reach the couch from the cabinet, natch) and installed the batteries.  Guess what?  No dial tone.

Several sessions of on-line help followed, without success.  Finally a quality control person was dispatched to fix the problem.  He explained that it wasn't a big deal to drill the wall, and that doing so would allow every phone jack in the entire residence to work. Imagine!  A phone anywhere in the house!  That suddenly seemed rather attractive.

I also decided I wanted the phone to hang on the wall in the kitchen.  Apparently no one does this anymore.  Once they got the connection going, the quality control guy and his partner were stymied by the fact that the slots on the back of the phone appeared to be upside down. Luckily, I remember the days of wall phones and discovered how to flip a removable piece, which solved that problem.

Then the screws on the jack didn't fit into the slots on the back of the phone, so they added an extra screw to hang the phone on.  I appreciated their effort and the fix worked fine until they left, whereupon it fell off the wall.

Fortunately, I also remembered that hooking up a phone used to be a one-plate-fits-all experience. Apparently it still is, when you know what you're doing.  A trip to Home Depot produced a $6.00 fix: a proper wall plate with the right kind of screws.  After I installed that, the phone snapped onto it with such vigor that I could probably do pull-ups on it if I needed to. 

It kind of surprises me that the phone guys had no idea how that all was supposed to work.  I guess my status as a technology dinosaur has been confirmed, yet again.  Not that there's anything wrong with that.  I definitely enjoyed solving the problem myself.  Where else would I find that kind of satisfaction for only six bucks?

 

I Love My Home, But

There's always a catch, isn't there?

In the course of doing yard work, I discovered I am living in the middle of palmetto bug heaven. The backyard is full of them, and some of them are grandmas and grandpas, judging from their size. This being Florida, it's not that big a deal.  If only they would stay outside, all would be well.

Recently I've had enough stragglers in the house that I decided it was time for the Bug Man. The Bug Man did a thorough inspection and confirmed that yep, I have some access points.  No surprise there.

He also found that a mouse or rat has been in my AC closet. Surprise!  I won't be opening that door again anytime soon.

He also found that there are active termites in my bathroom window frame.  Surprise!  Now I know what that black dust was on the bathroom counter.

Fortunately, the landlord has been very receptive.  Soon the Bug Man will be implementing his plan for creating a line of defense around my home.  Meanwhile, I am hoping and praying there is no tent in my future.

(photo credit)

On the other hand, maybe Christo would be interested.  It's a smaller scale than he is used to, perhaps, but he's got the wrapping thing down. Maybe he could use it to say something about the economy.

 

(photo credit)

The Power of Habit

They say old habits die hard. They say you have to do something new X number of times before it becomes a habit.

I say it only takes doing something ONCE for it to become a habit, when that thing is something indulgent and possibly bad for you. Like stopping for gelati every time I drive by the ice cream store.

I say it's easy to leave old habits behind when there are better alternatives. It's surprisingly easy to change my patterns, with a new location.

I live closer to the ballpark now, and since summer baseball has begun, I've been there a lot. (Last night, for example. When a huge zot of lightning was accompanied by a nearly simultaneous, extremely loud clap of thunder, I suddenly became highly aware that I was sitting on a metal seat under a metal canopy. Next thing I knew I was at home on the couch. Wow, that was fast.)

I'm also a whole lot closer to yoga now, making it ridiculously easy to swing by there at various morning and evening hours.

I'm a lot farther away from fast food. As a result, I've been eating at home more often, which translates into less fat and more salads.

All this self-improvement makes me sound virtuous, right? Don't be fooled. I'm as lazy as ever. It's just that I don't have to go out of my way now for the good stuff. Instead, the good stuff is delightfully nearby.

And the gelati store is no longer on the way home.

Home Depot = Twilight Zone

This was almost too creepy for words.

I went to Home Depot looking for those little thingys that go over an outlet. You know, there's a hole in the wall and two places to plug in, and then there's the little cover that makes everything look neat and attractive? I needed one to replace one I accidentally cracked at the old apartment.

Of course, at Home Depot you can't just say "Those little thingys that go over an outlet." I've tried the Plain English request before. It just makes them look at me funny. I decided on "I'm looking for switchplates" and that was the wrong word but close enough. (Switchplates are where the switches go. Duh.)

First I had to say it to the guy about 5 times before he understood me. Then I discovered those little thingys are called "outlet covers." Who knew?

The guy was quite chatty while I was looking over the selection. First he advised me that I should be sure and turn the power off before I started applying my outlet covers. I didn't tell him that my plan had been to Be Very Very Careful, but I made a mental note to amend that plan to include a trip to the box where the circuit breakers live. Either that or I will gently lay the pristine new outlet cover on the carpet near the broken one and let Maintenance do the math.

If only the chattiness had stopped there. The next thing the guy told me was that he'd had to replace an outlet cover himself recently. He said he broke it while swinging a belt at his 16-year-old daughter. Missed her, hit the outlet cover and broke it. Good Lord, I couldn't get out of there fast enough!

I wonder if Home Depot knows that kind of oversharing is going on in Electrical? Now I am feeling bad that I didn't say something, although I'm not sure what impact it would have had. I certainly was thinking "Serves you right" and "In my family, we call that child abuse."

Should I have spoken up?