This gentleman's name, on the back of his jersey, is SPAZ. He and his teammates were playing Larry and his team in the adult soccer league. I happened to be sitting on the orange team's side of the field, not to be disloyal, but because that side of the field has a tree big enough to sit under. But if I hadn't sat underneath that tree, I would have missed seeing Mr. Spaz, and I would not have had a little laugh to myself. You see, I just like saying the word. The way the lips purse together right before you spit it out always strikes me as funny. So thank you, Mr. Spaz. (Oh and Larry's team pulled together to finish the game with a draw 3-3.)
On Saturday night, I heard what sounded like running water. I made a circuit of the house, checking faucets and toilets, and the outside hoses. Everything was off. I said something to Larry about it, and he didn't hear what I heard, so we went to bed. In the morning, when we stepped outside to get into our car, we found that our front yard had become lakefront property! Turns out that we sprang a leak somewhere underneath the grass. I was grouchy about this, since I knew that we would be seeing a water bill of epic proportions in our future, not to mention the cost of fixing the leak. My dream of doing my Christmas shopping early was looking impossible. And then...Larry's mom knew a guy. (Larry's mom is a talker, she is very friendly, and she just knows lots of people.) This particular guy is a plumber, and long story short, he came over today while we were at work and fixed everything. Thank you, Mr. Plumber, and thank you, Larry's mom.
Last week, when I went to pay my bills online, I could not log in to the bill pay site. I knew that I had the correct password, because I have it written down in a secret spot in case I forget. I thought that perhaps I hit the wrong key or something. I tried so many times that I got locked out! Because I was tired, I perhaps got a little hysterical, thinking that my long run of paying my bills on time was history. I called the bank and told them my tale of woe, and the guy asked for my account number, and my address, and my date of birth, and the name of my first born son. Then he asked me for my secret word. Secret word? Yes, he said. The secret word. The one that you entered when you first joined the bill pay site. There was a secret word? I said this in disbelief, because I joined this bill pay site almost ten years ago. I've slept since then. And they tell you never to write stuff down because someone could break into your house and then they learn that your password is 'Rosebud' and it's all over. I was about to get hysterical again, when the bank person took pity on me and told me that he would reset my password and send me the code to log in. Thank you, bank person, for taking pity on my poor memory skills. I feel much better when my bills are paid, even if it means that my balance lowers.
And I am so very grateful to Stacy over at Stacy Uncorked, because she is always cheerful and sunny and she can change topics at the drop of a dime. Plus she has wine, which always makes life a little smoother around the edges. Go visit her!
