. . . And It's Getting Late
Every writer hits a point when his or her BEST efforts at digging up a writing topic fail. Tonight I'll throw out a new duo of words - blogger's block.
Now I did not invent that phrase I want to assure you. Everyone of you has it now and then - just haven't put it into words.
So I guess that's my BEST for tongiht.
No - that's making it too short. Just to lengthen it out, here's a recount of the day's activities.
Went up north to the house I've been renovating and met Damon who said he couldn't finish his tub underflooring job because there was no water to test for leaks before re-setting the tub.
Over the weekend, a deep freeze busted a pipe in the barn and set off a flood. A young girl next door alerted son Terry about it.
He checked and found water spraying heartily INSIDE the barn over anything in its path, including an electric heater which was operaing to keep the pipes from freezing. Why that didn't start a fire mystifies me.
He shut down all electricity. That was the BEST he could do in a dark barn in the middle to the night.
Today Damon said he could not handle the type of repair needed and advised hiring the well digger service. I called the service. Alan and a helper got the problem taken care of by day's end.
Pat, our electrician came along after noon to check a wiring problem with a kitchen light, its switch and a wall socket. He's sending in a worker to fix in the morning. Damon will be back to test the water in the house before setting back the tub on the new bathroom floor.
He presented me a partial bill for the past two weeks' work. There'll be a few hundred bucks added this weekend when the job is finally done. The heart attack is coming on, and by Friday, whooooooeeeeee. Kidding of course.
Now I guess we have a blog. Good night all.
- 30 -