|Twisted tree, August 2010. (Thanks, Amy!)|
Fast-forward now to our latest trauma. I got up yesterday morning and turned on the bathroom faucet. Nothing happened. Hunh, I said to myself, and tried the kitchen faucet. Same result. Then I looked out the window. There, on the other side of Bubba, stood a couple of our maintenance guys, staring at the hillside where our property slopes down to the adjoining apartment complex. The area behind them looked for all the world like a river delta. Ah, I deduced, we've had a water pipe break.
|Little backhoe. Big mess. Bubba in the foreground. (Thanks, Amy!)|
In addition, Kitty and Suzu stayed the night last night after attending Katsucon (a local anime convention) with Amy. Four women in an apartment with just one bathroom is already pushing it, but having no running water made things...interesting. (Actually, it might have helped; we didn't need to negotiate who got the shower first.)
Today, I emptied the dishwasher and did all the dishes by hand. I used to like doing dishes by hand. No, really. There's something calming about the warm water, the repetitive motion, the chance to let your mind wander. Today, however, I had to heat the water, rig up a rinse basin, keep an eye on how much clean water I had left, and so on. I never got to the Zen state. I was disappointed. Although there was something satisfying about having all the dishes clean, dry, and put away at the end of it.
This is supposed to be a writing blog, of course, and not a "Lynne is a whinypants" blog, so I'm trying to figure out a writing connection. Hmm. How about this: The process of writing is kind of like washing dishes by hand. Some days, you can easily find the Zen state, where the ideas are clicking and the words just flow. Other days, you have to spend too much time on the mechanics to be able to relax. But with dogged persistence, eventually you'll reach your goal. (I grant you, it's lame, but it's the best I can do without a shower.)