One problem. When I got to the library I remember the big stack of books I was taking back were still on the kitchen counter.
Oops.
Not to be thwarted in both my tasks, I entered the library determined to find Lisa's three books and my single book, all of which the Internet told me were on the reserve shelves. One of the library staff was putting out new reserves as I arrived and I smiled to myself, thinking "oh good, if I need help there will be someone right there!"
Second mistake. (The first being that stack of library books which were definitely NOT back at the library.)
I wandered over to the reserves section clearly marked 'B' (as Lisa still uses her ex's last name). I glanced down the shelves to confirm that I was, in fact, at the start of the 'B' section, which I was. I looked through the name tags and found a suspicious lack of 'Bennett' books. The staff member asked what I was looking for, and I explained that three books should be waiting for me on the shelves. She checked her cart and confirmed that there were no books for 'Bennett' there either. I explained that our account showed the books as being in, but we had not yet received our e-mails confirming availability.
I was then directed to the checkout desk, where I patiently waited in the small line to speak with a librarian about the issue. She confirmed that I was looking for books, not DVDs or CDs, and then told me to wait a moment while she checked in the back. I did as I was instructed and waited. She returned to apologize - the books weren't in the back either! So I returned to the reserve section to look again, just as a third staff member was wheeling out a cart which had several other 'B' reserves that had somehow failed to make it onto the first cart.
"What luck!" thought I, but alas, this cart also lacked the books I needed. I was about to question my sanity (always a good idea when your Rambling, right?) when the first staff member looked under the 'A' section and said, "Well the 'B's start here... oh, look! Here are your books!"
Apparently I have been mistaken for many years. The 'B' section does not begin where the shelf tags mark 'B' as starting... they start wherever the hell the library staff (who apparently are not required to understand alphabetizing) decide they start... and just because you are currently shelving books in a section does not apparently mean you actually have any knowledge of where anything is within that section.
Needless to say I grabbed the book reserved under my name and fled, before my grey matter could be sucked from my ears by the help. Thank the gods that checkout is automated! The computer and I had an insightful conversation regarding my library card number and library PIN number, as well as how I had a book waiting on me... I love that computerized checkout system!
I then went over to my parents on an errand, helped my mother remove a leaf from their dining room table, and had a long conversation regarding Cassandra and school. I won't repeat it, as it would require far more background information than I want to Ramble about to give you any sort of context. Suffice to say, we talked a while. I left and got gas in the car and made a quick stop at the bank, and then finally got home around 1:30.
I ate a quick lunch (left over asparagus pesto pizza topped in fontina and romano cheeses, and some vegetarian pot pie... mmmmmm!!!), and then Lisa and I bundled up Lex, grabbed the Library Books of Shame from the counter, and left to pick up the kids from school. We got there EXACTLY on time, meaning that I didn't need to bring The Hobbit (I'm refreshing my memory on it since I haven't read it since the Sixth Grade) with me.
From there we went BACK to the library, where I redeemed my earlier dishonor. Go me!
Next to Wal-Mart where Lisa picked up weed-killer, a new set of sheers, cilantro & mint herbs to plant, a new toothbrush (she's not planting that), and I got some more soap (I might plant that, but not it's not very likely) and looked at the prices of wood burning pens (I've needed a new rune set for some 8 years now, and I'm determined I'll make them myself, dammit). Some paint brushes so Lisa can finish painting the bathroom (if you want it don't well, DO NOT SEND ME, I PROMISE NO MATTER HOW HARD I TRY YOU WILL NEED TO REPAINT), and then finally...
... home. Well, not immediately, because of course the scanner couldn't register the first roller Lisa got, so she had to run back and get another one. With a Wal-Mart manager standing right next to the cashier who could have used a walkie-talkie to get someone in painting to read us the price or barcode, or gone back herself... gotta love Wal-Mart!
Ok, so then home. And if you've made it through that you're probably going "I've been screwed, his title promised pyrotechnics and plumbing!" Fear not!
Dinner tonight was chicken kabobs on the grill (Lisa has a fancier name, but I don't remember it, and it's freaking kabobs so... KABOBS!!!). After discovering that the recipe did NOT call for Rice Vinegar like she had thought, but rather Rice WINE, Lisa had me go to Kroger to procure the cooking alcohol. 3rd trip to that store in as many days. One day we'll get a complete list for the week, but I don't know when. I explored Kroger up and down before finally finding what I believed to be the Rice Wine (it was), and a bottle of Sake just in case I was wrong and it could be used as a substitute (it can, but we didn't need to). Then back home.
While I was upstairs playing the game of "But Lex, Mommy Needs Me Downstairs so You Have to Stop Crying and Let Me Leave While You Play With Your Brother and Sister" that I love so much, Lisa got the grill out and got ready to start it up. Now, to let you know, the grill hates Lisa, and the feeling is returned by her. The other day she successfully lit it... well, successfully if you consider the fact that after 10 minutes of pre-heating it was barely past 200 degrees and I could barely tell the burners were on (considering the recipe called for the grill to be on 'High'). Despite her disputes with the grill, she decided to make another go at it...
... and when she came upstairs she informed me that her eyelashes were gone and so was some of the hair. I thought she was kidding. Then I stepped in close and smelled that unmistakable burnt hair smell, saw the shorter-than-normal eyelashes, and the much-shorter strip of hair and realized that she had actually created a mini-fireball with the grill.
(Just to confirm, she's ok, though her eyelids were burned and she can't quite apply vanilla to stop the burn from everywhere... oh, and from now on I'm starting the grill.)
I THINK she might have sprayed too much PAM on the grill before lightning it. I know I've had some spectacular pyrotechnics with the stuff when I've applied it to my lit grill without thinking. At least that's what I hope it was; I'd hate to have it happen again.
So dinner was had, and it was good, even though one kabob didn't cook all the way through, and Cassandra whined about the cooked red pepper (because she doesn't like red pepper cooked, you see). During clean up I headed downstairs to put some things away and noticed the walls were looking... moist.
For background, our sump pump has a habit of needing us to manually trigger the float; when we let it go, the basement starts flooding. So I pulled off the cover and prodded the float with a handy-dandy piece of quarter-round left over from the houses construction...
... and watched as the sump pump FAILED to turn on.
I unplugged it, and then plugged it back in.
Nothing.
I went to the circuit breaker, tripped the proper breaker, powered it back on and tried the Float again.
Nothing.
I plugged something else to the socket to confirm the socket worked properly. It does. I plugged the pump back in.
Nothing.
So the sump pump is dead, I've got a tank nearly full of water, a basement on the verge of flooding...
... and apparently a trip to Lowe's in store for me tomorrow while I price out sump pumps and try to figure out A) can I install this myself, B) if I can, how will I drain the tank, and C) if I can't, who do I call that doesn't include limbs on their bill?
Hello Bad Day, unpleasant to see you, go the hell away. Now. Get. Shoo!
End of Demented Rambling.
