with Lorelle and Brent VanFossen

Bathroom Blues

I should call this blog entry “Tippicanoe and Toilet, Too” but that was just too cutesy for me. And yes, we are still suffering from the Bathroom Blues.

Brent finally got the toilet fixed and not leaking. We turned on the water to find the water to the kitchen dead. Fixed that. Then it started leaking from the faucet in the bathroom. Replaced the faucet, after much angst and anxiety, only to have the T pipes connecting the water from the sink access to the shower leak. They are plastic pipes with a copper T fitting, a pain in the buns.

Brent’s dad, Kent, skipped church, probably spoiling his attendance record, to spend half the day crowded in the little bathroom in the trailer figuring out what to do. They twisted and torque their poor bodies into the small space, holding flashlights and yanking on plumbing to no avail. So this morning, they are off to get the truck’s fuel tank switch fixed and check in with the RV store to see what parts, pieces, and advice they might be willing to offer.

Without water, I was again screwed, so I did a “make lemonade outta lemons” thing and had Brent vacuum out the cupboards and just clean them with a bleach cleaner, then line the things with the new padding shelf liner we got. Cool stuff. I have more details on it later.

With access to the other half of the trailer, I started emptying boxes and filling up drawers and cupboards. After four hours of back and knee breaking work, the desk, couch and table are clear and visible. At least now, even if we don’t have water, we can still travel without boxes everywhere. At seven in the evening we finally stopped and took the empty boxes to the storage room, a room of stuff we still have to deal with, only to find the old fridge still there. We’d forgotten about it.

At the house, Brent’s dad called a church friend to ask what to do with the fridge (some expert) and he said, “Drop it my the mailbox in my front yard and I’ll deal with it for you.” Amazing! That’s one less pressure off of us.

I also made the executive decision to bring all our pots and pans and dishes to the house to clean, something that should have happened days ago, but I kept waiting for the water to finally work. So I will spend the day washing dishes today.

I wanted to sit in the tub and totally crash out on the bed early, but Kent and Lynda Kay reminded us that Uncle Gordon’s new wife’s daughter and her family were being featured on an episode of “Trading Spaces”, the US version of the show I adored overseas. Well, the change between the two rooms was dramatic, but the show itself was the bore’s snore. Brent and his dad both fell asleep, and I was very frustrated and bored, folding laundry and just waiting for the show to be over. Very bad. Very unfunny. The male host, Jake, is an absolute horrid bore and self-centered nothing. His little drama queen events weren’t even close to real drama, just little selfish pouts, and any theatrics were done by the family, certainly not by the staff involved. Pitiful.

Of course, I thought I was spoiled by watching the brilliant presenters and designers from the British version, but both of Brent’s parents agreed this was a huge time waster in entertainment value. Thank goodness.

So finally to bed, but up and down in the night. I have a funny jumping charlie horse style spot on the left side of my tummy that is annoying. I know it is probably related to my spastic colon or the stress of everything, but it feels like a little alien moving around inside. And this bed is totally killing our backs, so every position is agony trying to find a comfortable spot until the blood congeals as it sinks to the lowest denominator. We’ll be really glad to get into a firm bed in the trailer again.

Brent and I are both shattered and battered from the physical and mental effort to get this thing fixed up and ready. Having me down for a week sick hasn’t helped at all, but having no water continues to be a pain.

So off to do dishes. We’ve now postponed leaving by one day, on Wednesday morning, instead of Tuesday morning, to make sure we get everything done. So I have another day of Internet and then off until who knows when. Oh, joy.

Tulsa, Oklahoma

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