Nothing's private

I didn't see the weather with John Scalzi this morning so I don't know if he took my advice about putting a spin on his forecasts. I'm not sure if I missed it because I was exercising, getting dressed, cleaning the litter boxes, or investigating the pool of water that was forming around the kitchen faucet.

Why is it that I only see these repair opportunities in the early hours of the morning before work when there's little, if anything, I can do? Notice I didn't say "why does stuff have to break or malfunction?" I know that everything has a finite lifetime and sooner or later something has to go. (Hmmmmm, remember my plasma TV, Sony PlayStation 3, microwave at the restaurant, my bike, and so on and so forth?)

If I can't repair it, I figure it's a good time to share the wealth and give the job to someone seeking work. Which is actually what I did. When I arrived at MMH, I asked my friend, Carla, for the name of her handyman. I called him later in the morning and he's coming Monday afternoon to change the kitchen faucet.

I already Googled changing a kitchen faucet. I would need a special tool and I'd have to squeeze up under the sink and try to loosen nuts that have rusted in place for 23 years. I don't feel like buying the tool, it's bad enough I have to squeeze into my bathing suit, and I'm allergic to nuts, so I called Bill, the handyman. Stay tuned for how that goes...after all, someday you, too, might need a handyman and I can hook you up.

Some of you might be married to a handyman/handywoman...which sadly reminds me, when I was married to him, my ex-husband couldn't do squat. Fast forward 20 years, now my younger son calls his father to help with repairs or to ask advice regarding repairs. My younger son is very very handy. I don't know when his father got so handy, but I sure as heck saw NO signs of it when we were together. When he was home, I saw a lot of him lying on the sofa eating Doritos and feeding Doritos to the dog while he watched reruns of The Honeymooners and Sanford & Son on TV. In those days, I didn't have my concealed carry license. Lucky for him, huh?

I mentioned at the top that my bike is broken. It's at the Village Bike Shop in Lakewood Ranch and will be there until Wednesday. I hate all these days of no riding! I asked Ralph for three months to take a short ride on my bike to see if he could determine the problem. He finally did on Tuesday. He said there's too much free play in the pedal crank. What do I know? It was always like that. Apparently riding it while it was outta whack wore down the bearings and thus all that screeching and grinding was the result. I've also been asking him to read my blog. He finally did yesterday. Today he said, "You misspelled Stephen King's name and you blogged about my bike rides. My rides are private."

I corrected the typo on Stephen King's name. But nothing's private. Just ask my ex-husband.