House of Noise & Wind

Saturday, April 27, 2019

On entering my house, one first notices the loud noises of machines, and approaching the main living area’s center, feels blasts of chilly, strong multi-directional winds. For in my kitchen several wind machines are running full-on. They’re in an area adjacent to where I’m sitting now, in chilly winds and wearing jacket and hat. I’m hoping my fingers will remain warm and flexible for computer keys.

It’s totally my fault that a massive under-cabinet leak went unnoticed long enough to cause this hub-bub. For several days, I noticed that water from the kitchen sink tap wasn’t flowing normally. Also, the faucet dripped even while shut off. Throughout my life, a noticeable personal trait frequently costs me–it’s my wanting to avoid seeing something that my intuition senses might be off. Honestly, it occurred to me to look under the sink; of course, it did. And I didn’t.

That is, until the faucet’s shrinking water flow became unusually noticeable. So, I sighed and bent, pulled out boxes of cleaning supplies, and peered into the under cabinet where floods of water had poured from a faulty faucet connector. Evidently, that had happened awhile, as now, the soaked cabinet area was grungy-looking. I moaned, “Why didn’t I look earlier!”, while turning to a computer to seek a plumber. Sigh, problems from “things-off” are likely when I’ve fallen into avoidance mode.

Long story short, a plumber came and replaced the faucet–the easy part. His visit was followed by an intrusive restoration team, and for days to come, their fans will consume needed space and force me to exist in big noise and air. Last evening, the racket put my cat Maxwell into his own avoidance mode, I had to sling him into the house and encourage him to pass the machines toward his dinner beyond. The dogs were easy, rushing toward their dinners and ignoring all else.

In the middle of this unhappy invasion, I sigh, if only I’d followed my instincts and looked for a problem; but alas, I didn’t. And at the expense of repeating myself, this avoidance trait again is costly and giving me penances. This time they’re noise and wind as I mutter my old old mantra, “In the future, I will be different!”

So far in this intrusion, Peaches has been surprisingly quiet. Hopefully, he won’t start mocking the sounds of rushing wind.

Dear Friends, at least, this didn’t happen during our freezing wintertime. Diana