A rough day

 

Jordan welcoming Jacob home from camp.
Yesterday, but I didn't get the picture in time for last night's blog.
Love it, love the smile on his face.

This, I decided, would be a lazy Sunday. No work. I would read the book that will be discussed in a group tomorrow and I should have read much earlier—getting something accomplished but not really working, not pushing myself. These hot days are hard on all of us. Even my cottage gets hot, and that almost never happens.

So the day went as planned until about one-thirty, when two things happened simultaneously: Jordan came out, obviously upset, because a strange man rang the doorbell and stayed on the front porch a long time. She and Christian were home but didn’t dare move about the house because the front door has glass panes and no covering. Christian was trapped in the room off the living room, and she in the bedroom. Jacob had just driven home, saw the man, called, and she told him not to come in because she didn’t want the man to follow or attack him. So Jacob drove “surveillance.” I dutifully called the police and then put it on the neighborhood listserv. The man went up and down the street, apparently stealing a bike and a package, stood in the middle of the street waving at our house, walked up the driveway we share with out neighbor. Clearly he needed help. He was here about an hour, and we never saw the police. Jacob thought he was probably on drugs.

Meantime, Jordan had been out to the cottage earlier and done something at the kitchen sink. I saw water on the floor, figured she’d splashed a bit, and put a paper towel over it. When I looked again the paper towel was soggy. I’ve had trouble, too much trouble with that faucet, and the last couple of days I noticed I had to push hard on the handle to keep it from dripping. So I intended to call the plumber in the morning. Now I called in the house, and Jordan sent Christian out—who found that everything under the sink was wet. He cleaned it up and turned off the water.

So now I have no water in the kitchen. You don’t realize how many times you start to wash your hands or rinse something. Tomorrow night I have company coming for a light supper—and a discussion of the Supreme Court—and I planned to cook in the morning. Plumber gets the first call. And we’re going to talk about a totally new fixture instead of repair. This is not the first flood I’ve had.

So dinner in the house tonight—steak and baked potatoes. I tried the British method of baking potatoes, as I mentioned last night—cut a cross in the top instead of poking holes all over, bake two hours at 400, take out of oven and deepen the cross, and bake ten more minutes. They were fluffy and good—and I do love a good baked potato. Steak as flavorful and cooked just right—Christian is so good at grilling. They announced that this summer Jacob should learn to grill—Jacob look uncertain about that, but I think it’s probably a great idea.

So tonight I’m going to finish off what should have been a lazy day by reading that book! Stay safe, everyone.