This morning Emily and I went to the store to return some sprinkler parts. The week that the thermometer read 111 degrees, we discovered one of our sprinkler stations had ceased working. The grass was getting crispy and we called in a professional who like many professionals we have hired was not worth the ink of his business card. After a large service fee and three hours of nothing, the pro did not fix the problem.
If we had had wishing shoes, we would have wished our money back and the sprinkler system station 6 to be shooting geysers. (6 is the number of the devil. Coincidence? I think not. ) Well, life doesn't come with wishing shoes, so my sweet realist husband pulled out the shovel and began digging ditches.
An hour later after excavating wires, Ben solved the problem that befuddled the experts.
We rejoiced and cancelled the return visit of the pro. For some reason, he still showed up. I sure hope he doesn't bill for getting out of his air conditioned truck and walking our long sidewalk to ring the door bell.
All this is to say, if we hadn't bought sprinkler parts to do the job ourselves and returned the unused extra silicone nuts and valve box, there would be no helium balloon. The sales clerk at Lowes gave Emily the balloon as we walked out of the store today. I think the balloon documents nicely that the Land of the Free was bought with a price. Happy Belated 4th, America. May your sprinkler systems hold out through the hot summer and may your grass always stay green with possibility.
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2 comments:
cool pictures. cool dress. not so cool story. (that is to say, not so cool continuation of the saga that began when we were there)
ps she looks like a little spanish senorita. Where is flower in her hair?
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