Edmund Schweppe

Went downstairs this morning, and my foot went “sploosh!” Not the expected feeling.

Turns out that the water heater sprung a leak. And the heater shutoff valve was stuck. And there wasn’t any sort of leak containment under the heater. And the downstairs wall-to-wall carpet was well and truly waterlogged.

Oh, and the landlord couldn’t find anybody who would come out on Thanksgiving to make repairs.

Yay me.

OTOH, the landlord did come by, with sufficient tools and know-how to get the shutoff valve closed, the heater tank drained, and most of the water sucked out of the carpeting. (Shop-vac good.) Hopefully tomorrow will see a new water heater, and the next few days will see replacement carpeting.

And I did get to see my folks for Thanksgiving. So that was good as well.

'Twas a small feast, as feasts go; still, my mother, my two brothers and I did manage to demolish turkey and potatoes and stuffing and carrots and string beans and onions and rolls and fruit cup and soup and brownies and apple pie and pumpkin pie and little custard tarts with strawberries and blueberries and bits of kiwi fruit and many many many nom-nom-nom-type noises.

I give thanks that we do this as a family. For all our faults and foibles, we still gather together, sharing the cooking as well as the eating, without the agonies that too many other families suffer in each others' presence.

I give thanks that, while there are real problems in my life, those problems pale in comparison to what they might be. I have a safe place to live, plentiful food to eat, clean water to drink, work that I find rewarding, and friends and family both near and far.

Not too shabby, this life of mine. Not perfect by any means, but not too shabby. Thank you, all, for letting me share it with you. And thank you for sharing yours with me.