Whoever you are, you nearly got a high grade. At least a B+, possibly an A. I am certain that there are forces beyond the veil hard at work both for and against me and among them is a team which is tasked specifically with seeing that the elements combine against me where possible. That team is who I address. You started out professional.

 

The thick organic cloud that rose from the unburied cat droppings in the litter box well saturated the room. I breathed it until an alarm in me signaled danger. Only then did the cat want put outside the house where such things are acceptable.

 

The stench was not cleared by lighting kitchen matches. It hung like a vapor. So I lit a candle, hoping there was enough oxygen left in the room to feed the flame that I hoped would consume the smell. I observed on facebook that a litter box in the bedroom filled with scents made no sense at all.

 

Having cleared the air after a half hour, I returned to my slumber. Right on the threshold of a dream, the phone rang. As the voice on the other end brought me word from afar, packets of top raman fell distractingly from the dresser where a box of them was perched.

 

Owing to the length of the call, sleep became a lost option.

 

I showered, which reminded me to finally get to the bottom of why setting the water temperature was no longer possible.

 

With water to the house shut off I took apart the faucet adjuster for the shower. Plumbing is an easy win for you. Points add up quickly when that must be serviced. (by “you” I refer to the “down hill” team, hereafter so called)

 

I couldn’t turn off the water in front of the meter because the valve wouldn’t budge, so I shut off the flow to the house from a valve after the guage.

The tool I used for the first inlet valve, the one that would not budge, came with the house and was clearly designed for this very purpose but failed. Took me fifteen years before finding out it was a dud.

 

In the shower, I removed two long screws that held on the face plate chrome. Another removed the dial. I unscrewed the side lever which sets the volume of flow. Then a chrome collar, a brass nut, and a white plastic thing. A pipe wrench allowed me mastery over a brass collar after a steel outer sleeve was removed from parts inside the wall. Then I pulled out the trouble maker, a unit called a cartridge.

 

My hope was that some obvious o-ring damage would show up and I could just rebuild the cartridge by replacing rubber.

 

There were bits of cork, but I never found any obvious problem. I went to the plumbing store and found a similar but inferior unit (at least as far as the visual assessment of it’s build quality could show) and came home and put it together wrong a couple of times.

 

Somehow, unless I caused an a yet unknown problem behind the wall (I don’t hear anything) it finally worked.

 

This is where the down hill team began to fail. Cleanup was easy. Performance of the water control was flawless.

 

You began to regain steam when I made cheese noodles, which I am led to believe are somehow bad for me. When I reached for the cheese, my hand contacted the spoon that was in the pan. This initiated a catapult action which spread noodles across the stove.

 

The cheese noodles meal experience contains the holy four, all supposedly devastating to my dream of good health: pasta, cheese, and cream of mushroom soup all washed down with diet coke. If you don’t buy that the coke is harmful, then note that I added sour cream, so still four.

 

I put that aside and examined the ancient bag of brussel sprouts with their black spots and age worn raggedness and determined that they could and should be salvaged to counter balance the poisons I’d just cooked.

 

For each sprout, I cut off the end and peeled off the damaged leafs. Rather than disappear into the back of the house and lose the sprouts to overboiling, I stayed with them. Later, I found them to be perfectly textured and tasty.

 

The down hill team was falling apart. I don’t know if someone called you off, or you have amateurs but it’s not that hard to get me on plumbing or boiling vegetables.

 

 

I got a call. Someone knew someone else whose stolen car was recovered but had been hotwired. The owner was perplexed and needed expertise.

 

I asked if insurance would be involved.

“Not known.”

 

I recommended a mechanic. Then I recounted the installation of the electric seat heaters in the miata which I did not connect to the fuse box and so they don’t work. I reviewed that I tried to get a vehicle to work with a trailer but screwed up the electrical system in the process. I mentioned the on board air compressor and the fog lights, neither of which are finished installs because I am loathe to tap the fuse box.

 

So I got out of being volunteered to restore someones abused ignition switch. Ha ha on you again!

 

For hours I puzzled over some vexing art matters. In the end I was more energized, though no further ahead outwardly.

 

All in all, you had your chance and for reasons unknown you pulled back. This pleases me. Thank you Down Hill Team.

 

Or maybe I should thank the other team. Because where there is a Down Hill Team to chip away at progress and optimism, there is a Home Team at ready and engaged in seeing good things happen.

 

So even more heartily, thank you Home Team! Progress was made today.