I had so many repair-type-people running in and out of here yesterday that I felt like Nina in Truly, Madly, Deeply (imagine Alan Rickman's voice pronouncing, ''This is a terrible flat ... terrible ... really, Nina, you're hopeless.")
The plumber will be back today. For most of the day, I believe. Feel sorry for me.
We have internet again, though the cable guy must come back again and replace our "obsolete" box. Who knew?
I dropped my cell phone on the concrete floor in the garage and it fell apart. Turns out those things can take a lot of abuse.
While we were blanching and cold-shocking and cutting the corn off many cobs, we had a contractor walking through the house, assessing a window situation. I waved my knife at him (in a friendly way, you know) and left the rest to Atticus.
And, by the way, why is pulling the husks off of corn called "shucking" instead of "husking"? And why is pulling it off the stalk called husking? I've lived in Nebraska for all but 11 years of my life, and I still don't think I'm "from" here. There are certain things about Nebraska that I will never get.
The kids are still great, with one minor blip: Ramona threw up yesterday and I thought we were going to add "stomach flu" to an already vibrant mix of events, because, doesn't stomach flu always accompany plumbing problems? But, God took pity on me, and we now think that poor Ramona's problem was just the heat. She perked up last night, and now seems fine.
Since I'm not going anywhere (other than into my basement to ask the plumber, "How's it going?") I hope to catch up with some posts later today.