‘Tis time to batten the hatches, ready the yard for winter. Autumn is here.
It’s FALL Y’ALL!
Fall is different than the other year’s quarters. Vibrant oranges, rich reds and lustrous burgundies dot the landscape.
Like spring, the word has double meaning. We often refer to bed springs, water springs, and a quick movement springs to mind. 🙂
But fall? You drop. Fall down. Stop. No measured movement.
That’s not really true, is it?
As we migrate indoors, preparing for cold weather, there are dozens of things to do. Transfer plants inside, ready our yard furniture, pets, and landscape. Sweep, clean, and paint anything remaining outside to withstand freezing temperatures.
My Pinterest boards are filled with inspiration. BTW, if you haven’t joined me there, please come on over, I’m pinning at this link as theroxiewriter.
This past weekend I scrubbed the birdbaths, deconstructed the garden, and removed the windchimes for their garage hibernation. Then I scraped spider webs off chairs and tables. Although the latter I usually leave until after Halloween, for the full effect, lol.
Once done, I sauntered into the garage, stashing my supplies and discarding my yard shoes. Ah, another weekend well spent. I inhaled a great dose of pride.
Then my feet skated on wet floor. In my right hand, the windchime spun, threads wrapping effortlessly around wrist. Bamboo doodads dangled, beads clinking against my arm.
My left hand broke my fall, but didn’t save the rain gauge. I pitched that puppy so the glass shards, ceramic bird parts and mosaic tiles scattered like cats in a room filled with rocking chairs.
On the cement floor, I landed, stunned. I wiggled important body parts to be sure everything was intact. Then a giggle rose, perhaps from my toes, as they viewed the rest of my body. Fall is HERE!
My laughter reached hubs, entering the garage in time to exclaim he thought he heard glass breaking.
Which set me on another laughing spree, because I imagined he said, “I thought I heard a putty tat.”
I still don’t know why he might have said that. Yeah, no, sorry, don’t have a picture of me sprawled on the floor. See, I can read your mind!
We surveyed the mess, and traced the source: water spraying from the water heater’s connection pipe. Within minutes, we had a plan to attempt to save the sheetrock, since the culprit butted up against the living room wall. We sighed, as yet again we were facing possible insulation, carpet, and furniture obliteration.
If you’ve been hanging out here awhile, you’ll know that dadblasted water heater has been the bane of our existence in this house: one issue after another. The latest unit, replaced in 2012, busted a pipe in 2013 flooding our living quarters, then the heating element quit middle of coldest February 2014. Insurance and warranty still stand by this thing, though I’m ready to kick it in the bolts. 🙂
Anyway, we redirected the waterspray away from our living room wall, repaired from the 2013 break, and then called the plumber. Yes, he returns calls on Sundays. A true historic gem, he’s not on social media, doesn’t use email, and only accepts cash and checks.
He’s been our go-to guy for the whole decade we’ve been in this place. So, you say, how did we find this business dinosaur? I asked my car repair peeps, if they had a plumbing problem, who’d they’d call. An old fashioned recommendation. Sans website testimonial. Or Yelp review.
Obviously I’m okay with that, although the drawbacks are huge, the rewards still tip the scale in favor of my plumber, at least for now.
How do you find repair help, and would you use someone without email, website or social media?