I was denied my artist date on friday by the rude presence of an electrician in my house. I can not concentrate when there is anyone (other than family) in my house, so I spent most of the day in a semi distracted state in which the only activity that seemed possible was nervous house cleaning. What was an electrician doing in my house?
Well it is another small chapter in the long saga of the anderson house remodel. This particular installation is chapter five in the replacement of the septic tank. Actually the house is on a septic tank and we are endeavering to hook up to the city sewer. Not one of the more sexy tasks in remoldeling and certainly not one you will find on any of those decorator shows on HGTV. Anyway the reason we are on chapter five is because there are several stages to this project. Digging trenches for pipes, finding the existing tank (which turned out to be a real challenge and quite funny when my plumber friend Danny had run a snake to what we thought was the back yard only to discover that it had gone the wrong direction and was sticking out of the stack ten feet in the air from our roof) etc. etc. Our house is on a bit of a slope and so one of the discoveries was that we needed a pump. I am not sure what the exact technical term for this appliance is but I have heard it referred to as a grinder pump. What does it do? You guessed it. It grinds everything up and essetially works against gravity to force solids into the city pipeline.
Or, simply put, it makes poop flow uphill.
Anyway this "grinder pump", which my sweet hubby has lovingly dubbed "the cuisinart", has to be wired to the electical in order to run its motor. So enter the electrician.
I knew he was coming at some point, but he did not call first (big mistake to an introvert) and just showed up friday morning. Me, with my paintbrush poised in my hand, answered the doorbell and knew that the day was taking a turn.
Oh well. I cleaned my brush, made polite conversation and shifted gears.
But last night it hit me with a vengence and I had to just paint something. And I was too bent to concentrate on my present canvas and I knew if I went after that in my existing state of mind I would regret it.
So I hauled this chair out of the storage room and went ballistic.
Not the height of my creative game, but it sure felt good.
it's beautiful blair! i too hate being invaded in my home - never realized that was an 'i' thing. (i've always answered those questions like it thought i was supposed to, not like i really felt, but i suspect i'm more 'i' than i knew).
hope the cuisinart is up and running smoothly.. pun intended!