Never say I'm bored

It was only ten minutes after Angela said those dreaded words: "I'm bored," when all hell broke loose. Please note, I said hell and not HELL, because all we had was lots and LOTS of water. A pipe under the sink failed and began spewing the liquid out at full pressure. Angela looked for the turn off valve under the sink. There were none. She ran downstairs to the next most obvious place, no valve.

"Call Joan," she yelled from below.

I dialed her sister, no answer, so I left a message on both her home phone and cell, as well as one for her husband. "Where the heck is the water turn off valve in Mom's house? Bring towels and a large wrench when you get this message."

"Call my brother," came the voice from below the stairs as I was already dialing that number.

"Can I help? I heard you yelling from outside," said the blessed neighbor from next door. He took one look at the flooded kitchen and raced downstairs to help Angela. A few minutes later, he had found the valve, the water had stopped, and I was soaking up water with every towel I could fined It was at that time that brother-in-law one drove up to help.

The house has a full basement, and water was pouring down every pipeline in the kitchen. So, after wringing out innumerous towels, I flung them downstairs to repeat the task below. Brother called to say he was on his way with his trunk loaded with tools and towels. "Never mind, Tony (the neighbor) saved the day. Thanks, though," I said

Angela took measurements and headed for Home Depot for new fittings. I put the towels in the spin cycle of the wash a couple of times and continued mopping up water in the basement. Two hours later, a new faucet and all the fittings were installed.

Mom happily watched the proceedings from her rocking chair.

Two hours later, the pipe was fixed and Mom had a new faucet. All was well in the household, but Angela is forbidden to think, much less utter, "I'm bored." Again, I'm reminded how lucky I am to have a T with all the plumbing knowledge she has.

Turnpikes and Tollways

Okay, I understand that states are having difficulties keeping up with road repairs. I even admit that the decision to have toll roads makes some sense, at least when the tolls are used to cover the costs of needed repairs. However, when I'm driving on them, and I find they are not maintained any better than other primary throughfares, I am not happy. I'm also not happy to find the wide tollboth is usually the one that remains unmanned. That forces RVs and semitrucks to squeeze into the smaller space along with all the cars. Before Angela transitioned, she was NOT the cool-headed driver she is now. HE would have given the attendant an earful over having to test every driving skill available to avoid scraping the mirrors and paint off the RV while paying for the privilege of using these poorly maintained roadways. Yes, someone deserves to have their ears blasted for the situation, but not the attendants. So, yep, this is another Best Thing About Being Married to a Transsexual. I love her supurb driving and her level headed attitude.

Worry

My T, Angela, puts the big letters in WORRY WART. I mean she's far worse than your average Worry Wart with only two capital letters.

Our route has been been carefully selected, honed and perfected to weeks now. However, last night, the worrywarts began to appear. First it was, "I'm not sure I can make the corner to get the propane."

"The RV Park has been serving motor coaches our size for years. It won't be a problem," I said.

"She woke in a cold sweat, in the middle of the night, and said, "I don't think the RV will be allowed on the floating bridge."

"Semi's cross the Hood Canal on it all the time," said I. "We'll be fine."

"When the sun came up, it was, "They won't let us on the ferry with the tow car."

"If you want to worry about the ferry, consider what it going to cost us," I suggested.

"The route's not marked to Highway Five after we leave the peninsula."

"There will be signs," I promised

We got the propane without a problem, the floating bridge didn't sink, the ferry not only let us on, they charged us $87 and change, and we got to Freeway Five. Now, what worries me is how we are going to fit this big rig into most of the Canadian RV parks.

Ah, how nice it is to have a gardener.

The temperature reads 107 outside, and the grass is waving in the breeze. It needs cutting. Usually, that means we will dampen our clothes enough to be outside and remain comfortable while we do the job. Today, though, we have a gardener. What bliss. I'm not riding the lawnmower, and Angela isn't doing the edging. I'm not picking up twigs, and Angela isn't trimming the hedge. The broken tree limb is not calling us to care for it immediately. We have a gardener. Angela and I are free to read, write, nap or play with the dogs. Are we? No, we're watching the gardener. Will he do as good a job as we do? Will he be faster than we usually are? Probably. Yes, in fact, when all is said and done. He, after all, has the fancy equipment we don't own. He also does the job for a living and has figured out all the little tricks of the trade. So, by watching, we hope to do better when we are doing it again in a few weeks. We also hired a professional tree trimming service. Guess what, not a single person fell out of a tree or off a ladder. You know, this could become a habit. Now, all we have to do is get a summer job to pay for our professional lawn care. Maybe we could hire out as gardeners.

Busy, Busy, Busy

Who ever said retirement was relaxing? Forget that. So far today, I have trimmed a small tree (taller than me though), and helped Angela mend a fence that lines our property. It's only ninety degrees outside. That's almost cool weather in Fresno for the summer months. We have nice neighbors for the most part, but one of them owns a business he runs from his home that is illegal. He runs big trucks and heavy equipment into his back yard along our property line, and they often knock down parts of the fence. The whole neighborhood is up in arms about his business and trucks, but so far he hasn't budged on moving the business. He will replace a fence post now and then if we insist on it, but generally, it falls to us to maintain it. Can you tell we aren't happy about this? Yes, the county is aware. They fine him every few months and threaten him regularly. None of that is doing much good thus far. I personally think that he believes our complaints will eventually fall on deaf ears as we're just a couple of "those" women. Just being women is a strike against us, of course. Ah well, we carry on. The good news is that we can share a few laughs about having to watch getting sunburns on our bald heads together even though we wear hats. We both lather up with sun lotion, but there is always a few spots that seem to get pretty red from time to time. We share our broken fingernail stories and help put on occasional band aids too. It is nice that we share the house and yard work. In fact, we actually enjoy most of it. Oh yes,we share bathroom and kitchen duties too. you'll have to wait for those stories.

Active Again

Okay, I admit to being a slacker in the blogging arena. I think, though, that it was more of a vacation. I was doing all that Cancer stuff, and it took over my life in a way I had not anticipated. I gio through it without many problems, but blogging took a backseat. I missed doing it, of course, but putting words down correctly didn't always happen. Call it what you will: chemo brain, or just laziness. I'll agree with you generally. I'm on a chemo pill now, but the brain seems to be working, and I want to be involved in blogging again. So, here I am putting words in this little box again.

Since this is supposed to be about being married to a Transsexual, trust me when I say that Angela was a rock through all of this - in the best way (not as poundage such as her being a heavy weight to carry around). She provided wonderful nursing when needed and even better support all the time. She, along with several good friends, made the passage much easier than I expected. Trust me when I say that not all spouses are a help. So, yes, this is another great thing about being married to a T!

My Bad

Okay, I've been away from this blog way too long. Can I claim Chemo Brain? How about Radiation Burn? No, alright, I guess I'll just have to take personal responsibility. It is my fault, no question about it. The good news is that all of the chemo and radiation are now behind me. I'll start The Pill on Monday I already had the hard stuff variety of that in my Chemo mix, I'm sure it'll just be a take-one-in-the-morning-and-forget-about-it scenario. So, I have no more excuses, and I'll just have to keep up with the blog from now on.

Angela is the main topic of this blog, and so I report that she hasn't been idle. She's been keeping me in line and taking care of my complaints, of course. She's also put in a tile bathroom floor, built a swing set, put together loads of holiday toys, and is now finishing up on a large 8'x8' playhouse for the girls. No, she didn't fall off a ladder, but she did manage to smash one finger, the drill into her two thumbs with her electric screwdriver. See, I can say/write that with a straight face even. She's my T, that's for sure. The good news is that I was handy with the bandages. I always love working on a project with her because she keeps me smiling.