Hot Day at Home and In the Pool

Charlie showed up even before 9 AM. Seems he's the one who does the plumbing and fixing around the house. The leak turned out to be minor, and he was able to repair it. He put paper towels underneath just in case it drips again...but I think my pots and pans work even better. (Though I did leave the paper towels, just in case.)

Ran Garfield In Paradise while eating breakfast. Garfield wishes he wasn't on his way to Paradise World, the only tourist trap Jon could afford. While their hotel turns out to be a disaster area, the beach is a lot more fun. Things get really hairy when their 50's-era rental car takes them to a tribe of Doo Wop-worshiping natives...and a volcano about to explode!

I read stories Lauren and I worked on while Charlie was here and afterwards. Didn't get to the laundromat until around quarter after 11. Waiting may have been a mistake. It was busy as heck when I arrived. I did get a washer, but there were barely any dryers. I listened to The Price Is Right and ignored the local news fussing about the extreme heat. Read the last of the History Mysteries Lauren gave me last month while I was there, Circle of Fire. This harrowing story depicted a young African-American girl and her white guy friend who work together to stop a group of Klan members from blowing up Eleanor Roosevelt during a speech in Tennessee in 1958. It was a harrowing and touching story,  by far the best of the four Lauren gave me.

I went home, put everything away, then went back out. I really didn't have much around for lunch. I ended up having a Big Papa hoagie - turkey, roast beef, tomatoes, onion, lettuce, and mayo (I left off the sweet peppers - too messy) - for lunch with a can of Diet A&W Root Beer. Stopped at WaWa on the way back for a mint chocolate chip milkshake.

Spent the next two and a half hours working on Scott White and the Seven Actors. The kindly chief of the Indian tribe has recommended Scott look into an audition with a small troupe of traveling players who might be able to get him back to town under Pruitt's nose. He catches up with their carriages, only to find the carriages open and them out rehearsing. He passes out on a bunk in a carriage while he waits for them. Three of the members of the troupe, Jeff, Mackie, and Mr. Foley, think there's a robber. They threaten Scott with Foley's prop gun, and are surprised to find a decent, fairly amused guy who just wants a job rather than a desperate desert tramp.

Went to Dad's around four to go for a swim, pick up my cake pan (which I used for the cupcakes from their party), and say "hi" to them. I've been meaning to get over there for weeks, ever since the week after the Fourth of July, but either I had other plans, or was busy, or the weather got bad. Dad and Jodie were finishing their laundry. They were going to a memorial service for a friend's father a bit later. Dad's going into surgery to have his new vocal equipment added later this week. He'll need a feeding tube for a while, which he's not happy about.

Jodie said Khai and some of the neighbors were in the pool earlier, but by 4:30, I pretty much had it to myself. I couldn't believe how warm the pool was. According to the new thermometer, the water in the pool was 90 degrees when I got in. The hot air outside felt less warm! It was lovely to be able to swim and relax and enjoy myself. I can't remember the last time I was in the pool alone. I did accidentally snap one of the rods that held the shape of that blue mesh-and-vinyl raft, but I told Dad and Jodie and apologized. I hope they can fix it.

Wasn't up for much more than a cod fillet with yellow squash and grape tomatoes in apple cider sauce and a couple of episodes of The Red Skelton Show when I got home. I did two of the later hour-long shows from the 60's. Of those, my favorite was the hilarious tale of how an elderly explorer (Ed Wynn) discovered Freddie the Freeloader (Skelton) to be his long-lost son and took him to Africa. Hard to believe Wynn was 80 when he did that episode - they both looked like they had a great time.

Pipe Dreaming

Shortly after I posted last night's entry, I was putting pans away when I discovered two of them had some water in the bottom. I keep the pans in the area under the sink; the pipe for the sink is above them. I ran my hands over the pipe; yes, it was wet. It was too late to do anything last night. First thing this morning, though, I called my next-door neighbors to tell them about the problem.

I alternated between trying to wipe down the pipe and make breakfast. I just had simple Blueberry Buttermilk Pancakes. For all the trouble, they came out pretty well, nice and moist. I filled a deep pot with water and used it to wash off the dishes. I just barely used the water in the sink. It didn't help. The leak just started to get worse.

Listened to Hello Dolly to cheer myself up during breakfast. I love the late 60's Pearl Bailey-led cast album. She makes a wonderfully pushy matchmaker. Cab Calloway isn't bad as her cranky Horace Vandergelder. I'm especially fond of the versions of "Ribbons Down My Back" and "Put On Your Sunday Clothes" here, as well as the opening number that introduces Dolly and her matchmaking, "I Put My Hand In."

I just barely had enough time to write out the rent check and a letter explaining about my lost outside keys (I think Charlie may have accidentally blown them off the porch when he cleaned the other day) and leave it next-door before hurrying to work! Once again, work was busy when I came in, steady-to-quiet the rest of the afternoon. It was so quiet by 4 PM, I was able to shut down without a relief. (Mine was the college boy who is always late coming from his second job.)

It was too hot and humid to be hanging around outside. I went straight home. Richard popped his head out of the McHughs' side door. He ended up calling a real plumber and settled for taping the pipes for now. The plumber will be here around 9 tomorrow. Richard did end up fixing the handles on the front screen door that have been coming off since Christmas, though.

After I got inside, I spent a blissful hour and a half in a cool bathtub. Ahhhh. I needed that so badly. It felt wonderful to kick back and relax while listening to jazz and reading Can't Help Singin'.

Put on my original cast LP for The Music Man as I had quick leftovers for dinner. Robert Preston and Barbara Cook headline one of my very favorite musicals, the tale of a con-man (Preston) who comes to a small Iowa town to sell non-existent boys' band uniforms. Like Scott Sherwood, the con-man learns a lesson in love and telling the truth when he falls for a smart lady, in this case the local librarian (Cook) who has been ostracized by most of the locals for stocking intellectual novels the townspeople find too shocking. The two think they have nothing in common, but when a real salesman comes into town ready to give the game away, it's the librarian who helps the con-man bring the band and the town together.