I love it here, and will live my life out in this place, God willing. I have it all, well, for the most part. I have land, 1.3 acres worth. I have trees, LOTS of evergreens, and too many alder. I have water, Puget Sound is at the foot of the driveway. I wake to the sound of the ferry horn and seagulls. I dodge deer and bear as I drive to town...and raccoons that won't dodge me!
I also have small town "talkers." You know the ones. Those folk that somehow know everything about every body. I don't understand what they get out of spreading news; false or not. I have people that tell me intimate details of the life of a person that I have never met. Very weird. It would be fun to hear what they say about me. The strange hermit granny that lives in the woods and wanders around in shorts with a black, fish painted, peg leg. We have artists, tree huggers, lumber jacks, and fishermen. Reservation land, and very fancy golf course communities.
Yesterday I went to the neighboring town. My pool pump has died, or perhaps it is the wiring. There is an electric motor fix-it guy that has a shop there. In the city across the sound if'n a store sign reads "Open" and has an hours sign, there is a 99.9% chance it is open. Not so here. Sign said open, hours said 10-4, door is locked up tight. Nope, there was no "Gone Fishin" sign, but there was a sign that had a phone number. I dialed it. The guy answered with the shop name and "can I help you?" I say, "Are you open?" "Tomorrow" comes the reply. OK. Sign says open Tuesday through Saturday 10-2. I really want to get in my pool. Should I go to the pool/hot tub store and talk to them? I know they will try to sell me a pump. I know to replace the pump will run me at least $400. What if it is a wiring issue? sigh. I decide the wise thing is to wait and go to town again today.
My question is: Why do I let a little thing like a sign get to me. It is not the fact that the guy wasn't there, it was the fact that the sign said he should be! I think I need some therapy. That kind where they submerse me into "Sign Land." I think of Mr. Toad's Wild Ride at Disneyland. Signs coming at me from all angles and none of them making any sense. Exits everywhere, but they have no doors. I would either come out of it numb and no longer caring, or I would be a shaking, quivering mess of hyper stimulated neurons.
So I take this tired body, in shorts and koi adorned leg, and I head to the fix it shop, in hopes of enjoying the pool in a week or so. The question is, or course, will the guy be there when I get there?
Song of the day?
5 Man Electrical Band "Signs"
Sign, sign, everywhere a sign
Blockin' out the scenery, breakin' my mind
Do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign?
The good news is that the pump is fine. The bad news is that it still won't work. It must be the wiring. Tomorrow I will get into the circuit breaker box and see if I can figure it out. If not I will be calling an electrician on Monday, which likely will still be cheaper than replacing the pump.