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WARM WEATHER AND WILLPOWER worked their magic today to get me wending my way à pied to check on my infant orchard, a half-mile up the road.





It's been quite a while since I've given the young trees any solicitous attention (or even looked at them, if truth be told), so I was a bit nervous as to what I'd find. Would they be mauled or mutilated by wild animals? Chewed upon? Would the vagaries of winter weather have had any deleterious effects?




Happily, I discovered that nothing had plauged their healthy and upright condition. But a close inspection found no signs of development in the buds--something I was hopeful of seeing.




On my walk, however, I saw no lack of development on the part of my Amish neighbors. All winter they've been decorating the side of the road with mounds of earth as they build their "daudy house." (An add-on for Jakie and Rachel, patriarch and matriarch of the three generations of family.)


It's nearly complete, almost ready for move-in. Two young members of the family were industriously washing the windows and sweeping the floors as I passed by.



Of course, few are the times when I fail to see some form of cleaning--washing, sweeping, tidying up--going on about the place. I see them washing the windows, the walls, the buggy, the barn, the animals. They are often sweeping the driveway. Clothing frequently flutters on the line.



My brisk little walk notwithstanding, when the sheep in the meadow just beyond the barn turned their soulful eyes on me, I had to say, "I feel like a sluggard, how about ewe?"



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FOR MORE REASONS than simply patting myself on the back, I wish for realization of the prophetic statement I made on Inauguration Day concerning our new president. So this evening I was eager to hear what he had to say to us all. I wanted to be favorably impressed and find his intentions and ideas for improving the health and welfare of this ailing country to be ones I could applaud. And I was not disappointed!

When he speaks, I hear a certain kind of wisdom that has been lacking in our head of government for...well, since I can't remember when. His sincere desire to dispense with partisan politics; his realization that he will need to bend to some degree, if he wishes to accomplish his agenda; his sense of the responsibility that we all share and his admonishment to that effect; his grasp of the problems we face and their roots; his determination to lead without the use of fearmongering; the speed with which he has taken up the authority vested in him and begun to deal with the monumental task he faces; and the confidence and cautious optimism with which he led this great pep rally...all inspired me.



Then, as he wrapped up his speech, he made mention of my children's children*. Now I have to say, I certainly share the particular story-telling dream he mentioned, for reasons that include--and go beyond--the need for America's rise to its present-day challenge. May the goal be attained, the wish come true--in all its aspects--not t00 many years from now!



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*yet to appear on the family tree

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DEAR BRIDE AND GROOM,

Yesterday I made a trip to Lowe's to pick up the knob that was traveling east from Iowa for your faucet while you were traveling (south)west to Mexico for your honeymoon.

On Monday, Tom, at the plumbing desk, called bright and early to inform me that the faucet's intended was due in sometime soon. But it wasn't until Tuesday that I got the news...the faucet's one and only had actually arrived. So yesterday, after a trip to the store, I was in possession of the longed-for knob, nestled in its exceptionally roomy box, waiting to be joined together with the faucet.


This morning with screwdriver, knob, and the keys to your door in hand, I've come to do the honors. Lest you leap to false conclusions, let me hasten to tell you that someone else has lurked about your apartment since you've been gone!


It was not I who did the mischief you will find!

No, I am only here to unite the two parts in one at last...


...the lonely male faucet and the lovely female knob. (Hey, I only go by what the master plumbers say.)



With the aid of just one good screw (It's right there in my hand! No snickering!),


they shall be forever united. (I mightily hope so. I do!)

And now, with this ring of metal--beautifully engraved with the words Price-Pfister--I seal this union.

What I have joined together, let no tenant put asunder.

(You may now kiss each other, and enjoy your complete working faucet from this day forward. And happily ever after).Sincerely, the Landlord



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YESTERDAY I MADE SOUP while the sun shone. Today I had some of that sunny soup to eat while it hailed. There was one burst of lightning and one rumble of thunder, and a few minutes later it looked for all the world as though someone thought it best to add salt.

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(click on the pic for an xtra-salty view)

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THIS BRINGS YOU CHAPTER V in the continuing saga of my quest, the tale of which is getting more than a bit tedious. Consequently, I will skip right over Chapter III, in which I spend an exhaustive forty-five minutes at Farmer's Supply in a tiny office with three desks, watching a store manager strive ever so relentlessly to search out the illusive faucet knob for me via catalog and computer. In that situation, the computer was the tortoise and the catalog was the hare, although neither made it to the finish line and the speed of the tortoise was excruciating to watch.

Somewhere between Chapter III and IV, I get a call from the tenant, inquiring of me just when I plan on getting his faucet fixed. He's getting married this weekend, after all!

Chapter IV, in brief, picks up the next day with a quick jaunt back to Wienstein's for directions to the Centerville Tru-value. Mindless of the fact that it is Wiener Wednesday, I can't tell you how tickled I am, Dear Reader, when I enter the store, to see all the real plumbers gathered round the roaster.

With directions firmly in my head, I drive all the way across the city to Centerville and every traffic light is green, which I see as a very good omen. Except wait, maybe that is the good luck of the day and I've now exhausted my supply! Well, here I am, and the helpful young man examining all the knobs with me urges me to buy one, or even two or three. "Just return them," he shrugs, "if they don't fit." I have a little debate with myself, but no! There will be no long return trip, and besides, none look at all promising. The stay was brief.

Chapter V begins just as I think the story's reached its conclusion. I'm on my way home to call a real plumber and order a whole new faucet to be installed in time for the groom to wash his face before the wedding.

It's as I head down the road, a different route than the way I came, it hits me. The Lowe's Store is just ahead. I'll be passing right by. I hesitate. What are the chances? Zero to none? This quest has ceased to be an interesting challenge. In fact, I'm quite sick of it! (As you may well be, too, my Dear Reader.) But I enter and head for the plumbing desk. Yes, they have a plumbing desk, I'm told when I stop at customer service.

Mark is the man for me and he's friendly and nice-looking with a little gray in his hair. He doesn't claim to be a plumber, but he escorts me to the knobs, where we hobnob for a while before coming to the conclusion that what I need is definitely not there. Back at the desk, Mark drags out fat catalogs. Geez, have I not already seen every plumbing catalog that exists?! And shouldn't they be an anachronism, already? Hopefully, I ask, "Isn't this stuff on the internet?!"

But Mark says no, that's not the case with these replacement parts, and we pore over the pages.
Suddenly Mark says, "Here we go! This one looks like it could be the one," he singles out one of the sketches and studies it intently. "Hmm. No measurements listed though." He searches for the phone number, ready to call the company, and it turns out to be one of those cases where the phone number is spelled out with letters. "Oh, this drives me crazy!" Mark grabs a note pad, studies the phone and carefully translates into numbers before dialing. "My wife can tell you-- it's a pet peeve of mine!" He waits a few moments with the phone to his ear, and then mouths to me, "They're saying it'll be a long wait."

I wander off to look at the faucets again and come back about ten minutes later as he is making arrangements to have the knob shipped. Turns out he has made a total of three calls, but triumphantly informs me he's found the right one! "It'll be five dollars," he says. "You don't even have to pay shipping." He records all the specifics and gives me a paper to take to the front desk, where I will pick up the knob after notification that they've received it.

I'm in a daze. Can it be true?! Just when I'd given up hope! As I turn to go, he remembers something, "They told me there is ONE...it's in Iowa."

"Hunh?" I do an about-face. "ONE!? Do you mean, like, one manufacturing plant? Or...only one place to obtain these?"

"No," he shakes his head. "Just ONE knob. They searched the country and found it in Iowa, the one they're shipping. But it's the ONLY one!"

"Really?! I'm getting the ONLY ONE?" I walk slowly to the front of the store, mulling over this astonishing fact. Finding this ONE knob? Surely it was meant to be!



(there's more...)

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