I sure do need to call a plumber

Have you ever had one drain partially stopped up, while all the other drains work fine?  That's what's going on at my house.

For the past two months (or it might be three, since I haven't been keeping count) the drain where my washing machine is connected, has been acting up.  The kitchen sink is connected to the same drain and it works fine, however, it does cause the drain at my washer to gurggle once in a while.  All the bathroom drains work OK.  Back before the first of the year I didn't do anything about it because I didn't want to spend the money, didn't have the time, needed to clean the house, and besides it was close to Christmas.  Shoot, I just didn't want to fool with a plumber. 

Along came January.  Haven't done laundry since before Christmas,  and  I'm almost out of  'you know what'.  It's almost February and I haven't called the plumber yet.

Well, yesterday I couldn't put off doing my laundry any longer.  I cleaned all the junk off the top of the washer and dryer so that I could get started.  Sheets first.  Last time I did the washing, I found that I could set the water level on low and the drain worked fine.  If I set it on medium and stopped it in the middle of draining, I could wait a minute then start it draining again and it wouldn't run over.  Took fifteen washer cycles, about a hundred gallons more water, and three days to get four large loads washed.  But I didn't have to clean up any water.

I don't know how it took me so long to figure out that I could just fill that sucker up, pile a full load in, and let 'er go.  All I have to do is stop the machine twice while it's draining.  Hey, tried that and it worked.  I did have to stay close by in order to hear when the washer quit swishing and started draining, but more got washed at one time.  I only let water spew out the drain, down the wall and onto the floor  three times in three loads.  Took a lot less time and used less water and soap.

Since three loads were all I managed to get done yesterday, I'm back at it again today.  Only have three more loads to do.  That is, if I put some never-washed red towels in with my jeans.  If I decide that I don't want to take a chance of my jeans coming out a wierd offish blue/pink color, it's  gonna take four. I sure do need to call a plumber.     

Is it a sin to lie to your dog?

Well, it's Monday morning and I've got a problem. I know I said that this post would be my opinion of the way old men wearing hats drive, but as usual things aren't working out the way I thought they would.

Now, back to my problem.  From the time I could say "No", my mother taught me to always tell the truth.  It's good advice and I do believe one should.  However,  here's where Mr. Problem comes in.  I have two little dogs.  They tend to puddle on the floor in the living room.  That's not the worst part.  They 'go' on an antique Aubison rug.  Now, if I say "I'm going to church", and have on something beside jeans, they seem to understand that I'll be back soon, and they are 'usually' good.

One is a male dachshund and the other is a female designer dog - half dachshund and half German Shepherd/Pit Bull/junk yard.   Their names are Oliver and Blossom.  I call Oliver, Olie for short, and got him when he was ten weeks old.  Blossom's name was Rosie when I got her.  She was a year old, had been a shelter dog, abused as a pup, and had the attitude that she was not going to like me.  She didn't like anyone, and would only tolerate me because she liked Olie.  She did not look like a 'Rosie' so I named her Blossom.  I'd had a pet named Blossom and I could remember it.  Besides I was determined that she WOULD blossom into a good dog.

Back to my problem.  Recently one Sunday evening I was attending a party at my son, Wesley's house.  I didn't dare say I was going to his house because they know the word Wesley, and they adore him.  They also get to go to his house where they always get treats.  I knew if I told them the truth, I would be faced with a major mess-up.  Not only would I have pee all over the floor, most likely there would be smelly truffles scattered all over the floor.  So---I lied.  I said I was going to church.

Since then my conscience has been bothering me.  Not only did I lie to a couple of my best friends, I lied about where I was going.  Now these two little animals cannot possibly understand all this, so it doesn't bother them.  But I know.  And the Man Upstairs knows.

I asked several friends what they thought.  Was it a lie, or not?  Some said "No."  Others said a lie is a lie is a lie.  Finally I asked my daughter.  Bless her heart she explained to me why it was not a lie and my mind was put to rest--- that is until today.  I tried to remember what she said.  I'd like to ask her again, but she'd think I've gone nuts.  So, what do you think.  Was it or was it not a lie? 

I'm no Irma Bombeck, but...

No, I'm no Irma Bombeck.  If I were, I'd be dead.  I'm not an impositer either, I'm just me.  I am a writer, and I'm published.  However what I've been paid could be hidden under the matress in a rather small envelope, and an anorectic hypochondriac wouldn't be able to feel it, forget the princess.  If you don't know what I mean by that, you haven't read enough fairy-tales.

In this blog I will write about common ordinary stuff.  Likes - yes, problems - yeah, gripes - you bet, and there may be a few pointing fingers at ordinary people, doing ordinary things and wishing they would have better sense than to do them.  But hey, I'm an old fashioned Southern girl, and I don't appologize for it.  I'm also a died in the wool Texan, and I won't appologize for that either.

My next post is gonna be about 'Old Men Wearing Hats'.  All you truck-drivin, cowboys wearin' gimmie caps might want to read it.  You gals riddin' with 'em might want to read it too, along with you young ladies driving red cars.  'Cause I tell the truth.  If you don't believe me just take a look and watch their driving.  Hope to see you tomorrow.

Johnie