Friday, July 24, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
because he likes to hit and he wants to hit it far.
He also really likes to throw baseballs.
In just two more years, he could actually be the one pitching. He's spent the last three months practicing pitching with this kid, at all of the Middle Carrotstick's baseball games. He can't wait to really pitch in a game.
But I sure can.
(Pretty soon he'll be shaving.)
Machine pitch isn't that bad, son. Please don't grow up.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
fyi: I survived girls camp, in case you were worried. And I even had fun! (Kind of a miracle, considering I only went to Girls Camp twice when I was a Young Woman.)
I have also survived the return home. All the camp stuff is put away, and the laundry is done. I even survived giving a last minute talk in Sacrament Meeting on Sunday.
But then: Monday came, PB&J had to go out of town, and the dishwasher decided to break. Three strikes. Monday should be out. Boo.
Faced with the options of hand washing a dishwasher full of dirty dishes (eewww) and replacing yet another dishwasher (our third in 15 years), I decided to follow the example of my friends Betsy Case and Janice Cooks-Bailey (who have both singlehandedly saved their washing machines from the brink of death multiple times) and try to fix it myself.
I consulted the wisdom of the internets and found no real answer. I poured hot water and vinegar in it and let it sit overnight. Nothing. No go. The motor runs, but no water fills it. So I tried again. "Oh great internets," I pled, "please give me the solution to my problem." I looked at a highly technical dishwasher web page with lots of incomprehensible terms and links to further diagnostics. I read something about floats. I thought of the float in the toilet. Though I have never seen a black plastic ball in the dishwasher, and didn't know where a float-thing in a dishwasher might be located, but there was this weird little upside down cup-like thing at the front of the dishwasher. So I wiggled it, debated about undoing the bolt that held it down, and then decided to pour water over it. A lot of water.
Holding my breath, expecting the worst, I turned on the dishwasher, and behold! It worked!!! And I rejoiced. And I praised the internets and Al Gore. (Not really on the Al Gore part.)
Then I called PB&J.
Me: (all nonchalant) "Hey, guess what I just did."
Me: "I fixed the dishwasher."
Me: "Yah, I fixed it. I pulled the whole thing apart, piece by piece, laid it all out on the kitchen floor, and then single handedly studied each piece, cleaned it, sprayed it all with WD-40, and put it back together again. Even the tricky little e-lec-tronic controller part. And it then . . . it worked"
Him: (laughing) "ok, what really happened?"
Me: (a little deflated) "I poured water over some part inside the dishwasher and it came unstuck and worked."
Him: (still laughing) "Well, I guess I owe you dinner out for saving the dishwasher."
Darn right. And it'll be a nice one too, because dishwashers can be expensive.
Isn't it nice to have a handy ma'am around the house?
I'm very proud of myself, in case you can't tell.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
it keeps raining. and raining. and raining some more
so we are doing a whole lot of sitting around inside. looking outside. wishing it would stop raining.
hope you are having a great independence day!