Some of you may have grown up with or read the Mercer Mayer Little Critter books to your children. Do you remember the one entitled I Just Forgot?
"Sometimes I remember,
and sometimes I just forget.
This morning I remembered to brush my teeth,
but I forgot to make my bed.
I put my dishes in the sink after breakfast,
but I forgot to put the milk away.
I almost forgot to feed the puppy, but he reminded me.
I didn't forget to water the plants. They looked fine to me."
That story describes me as well as any other. "Sometimes I remember, and sometimes I just forget." We left the house early yesterday. "I'm forgetting something," I said. It wasn't until we were several miles from the house that I remembered. "It's the camera." I had remembered the bottles, the extra changes of clothes, the thank you note, the checkbook, the diapers. I had forgotten the camera. And to fill up on gas. Sometimes I remember, and sometimes I just forget. Actually, I didn't even forget the last one - technically. I had remembered several days before. I just chose not to fill up. I was driving - who can remember where? I noticed the tank was half-full. I began carrying on an internal dialogue. It went something like this: They say you get better gas mileage if you keep your gas tank full. I should probably start filling my tank up when it's half-full. When it's not raining. Who are they and how do they know so much? [For those of you wondering how often I carry on silent conversations with myself, I hate to admit that I'm pretty much a non-stop internal dialogue machine. Have you seen The Informant? I am that man (minus the criminal shenanigans and deception) with fewer random facts and more fake interviews with Oprah and explanations to nonexistent police officers as to why it was necessary to have just run that red light.]
Well, I didn't think about that now-not-so-half-full gas tank again until Sunday when Jason told me to remind him that we needed to fill up after leaving my parents' house. Sometimes I remember, and sometimes I just (ahem) forget. Which, is how we came to be parked by the side of a farm-lined highway less than three miles from a gas station with an empty tank come Easter evening. It wasn't all that bad. The weather was perfect - a breezy warm spring (as if meant for stuck-on-the-side-of-the-highway folks) sort of day. The children were on their best behavior. More importantly, they were funny (always a plus when entertainment street-side is in short supply). The view wasn't shabby: fields, farms, and the sprouting of spring. And, Jason's mom and her boyfriend were ready with a gas can and willing to come to our rescue. I would show you a picture of our roadside stop, but um, you know.
Needless to say, I have no Easter photos for you today. No shots of pink polka-dotted Easter dress ruffles, or babes in blue knit hats, or brimming baskets of eggs. Nope. Today, you get the other snapshots of our weekend, those I did manage to capture: plumbing and planting.
Somewhere in between the spats of forgetfulness, a couple projects found their way to completion. First, a dripping faucet lost its leak. I should be embarrassed to tell you that we've had the hot water turned off on one of our sinks for a month due to this leak (but I admitted that I have lengthy conversations with myself, so I think we've passed the embarrassment threshold, no?). It's one of those hang-in-limbo projects: too easy to call the plumber about but not the sort of thing your mother teaches you over chocolate chips cookies while growing up. So it waited until I had sufficient time to search the web. At first, my search was fruitless. When I looked up leaky sink, I found how to fix everything but a simple faucet leak. Then, it dawned on me. I don't know how or why (but can you imagine the conversations she could hold with herself?), but Martha Stewart knows practically everything. From how to bake the perfect cake, to etching glass, to proper jail cell etiquette - she's your girl. Sure enough, she also knew how to fix a leaky faucet and demonstrated with beautifully photographed images. (You can check out her handy plumbing how-to's here.) A simple switching out of a washer (the circular black do-dad in the picture) and we were hot water happy and drip-free.
So just how do you celebrate a roadside rescue and plumbing success? By planting pumpkins, of course - our first planted seeds of the season. Now if I can just remember to water them. Hmm...