I took the above quote from Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, by John Berendt, although I'm sure Mr. Berendt didn't originate it and that it has been used in many other places. The book is a nice, easy read, though, if you haven't read it. I like books about the eccentricities of southerners, being a rather eccentric southerner myself, not to mention coming from a whole long line of them. I didn't really love the movie, though. It wasn't terrible, but it wasn't the best. As with most books, the translation into film left much to be desired. That's why I'm a little worried about Harry Potter 7. I re-read it the other night and was on that last, long battle scene, and I actually took a moment to worry about how it would look on film. It has the potential to be riveting, but.....you know how that goes. Anyway, back to not bragging - I have to tell this story, even though it took place a couple of weeks ago:
The tub drain in our master bathroom had been clogged for about a week when all this happened. I would notice it when I was in the shower and then would promptly forget about it, at least until the next time I was lathering up my hair and standing in three inches of water. I would usually take a moment to note the inconvenience, and the minute I was out of the shower, poof, it was gone. My husband is not as forgetful as I, and had spent roughly $40 on various and assorted drain cleaners and clog removers and all sorts of other toxic goo. I mentioned something about getting it out with good old fashioned elbow grease, and he took me up on my offer. And again, I promptly forgot about it until he emerged from the shower one day and said, "I thought you said you could unclog that drain". I told him that I could, I had just let it slip my mind, and he was dubious - if his overpriced chemicals could not unclog the drain, I certainly couldn't.
Of course I had to rise to the challenge, stalking my prey armed only with baking soda, vinegar, and a plunger. And what do you know, after about ten minutes....voila! Clear drain! I stood over the tub, smelling like pickles and triumphantly raising the plunger over my head in victory. And then I realized that I need a hobby. The drain is still clear, by the way - my husband commented on it tonight, that's what reminded me. It's the small victories you have to celebrate, because the big ones can be few and far between.
Alas, there is no rest for the weary, because my superpowers are needed elsewhere. To the garbage disposal! Keep a bucket of ice handy (in case of any detached digits) and 911 on speed dial, friends, this one is going to be tricky.