Right after lunch, I get a phone call from K at home, who says that there are men in orange worker-type outfits unloading gear in front of our house and about to begin some sort of work. She's pretty freaked out over this, I don't know what's going on, so I jump in the car and head home, about a four-minute drive.
On the way, the cell phone rings and she tells me that it looks like they're cleaning out the gutters.
Relief. Almost. At least I know what this is. Yes, I have service contract with a gutter-cleaning business; they come twice a year. No, I had no idea they were coming today; they don't tell me ahead of time, they just show up.
Shit. SHIT. **SHIT** The Hubs, who, as you may have guessed, has never cleaned out a gutter in his life unless his father was standing there telling him to do it (and teaching him how and showing him a better way), has just gotten his crops in, tomatoes lovingly planted right up against the back of the house. Shit.
I did the car equivalent of Roy Rogers jumping off his moving horse, and caught the gutter guys as they were coiling up their hoses. Yes, they work fast; I also live in a tiny house. I ran around the back and saw the tomato beds swimming in water.
I was very angry. I also felt terrible about this because these were very nice guys, and here was I, yelling at them about scaring the crap out of my kid in the house (they didn't need to know that she's 20 and scares easily) and that I was going to be divorced tomorrow. I really did let my anger out, which I almost never ever do. They kept telling me that the plants were okay, they didn't knock anything over or anything. I guess it was okay. All I could see was the Hubs coming home and blowing a fuse. He rarely does this anymore, but when he's angry, he's terrifying. He's not physically terrifying in the sense that he's ever hurt anyone but himself, but I have seen him punch holes in walls, and even, years and years ago, bang his head into walls. Granted, he's over 50 now and unlikely to do that, but having seen it once, I have no desire to see it ever again. He also has a way of turning his eyes into Godzilla-like beams when he's angry, and I hope I never see that again, either.
So I've been hoping for rain all day, and here it comes now, but he's been home for awhile and either didn't look at the tomatoes or they looked all right. I guess they're okay. Actually, since he changed jobs about a year and half ago, the anger thing is really really rare; I'm just conditioned to plan my life around avoiding it at all costs. Funny how things turn out, huh?
Off to Virginia tomorrow. See you Sunday.
--------------------------------------------------
I'm watching Golden Girls
--------------------------------------------------
last ::
next
Sweet Sorrow - 06.12.2007
So ... - 12.19.2006
Christmastime Is Near - 12.18.2006
Fifteen Years - 12.17.2006
A Message From Our Sponsor - 12.16.2006
|
