The 12th is the......Drywall Anniversary

Sunday was the 12th Anniversary of The Dear One marrying waaaaaay below her station. As she is wont to say, marry a llama, and your life's never boring.

Early Sunday morning, I open the garage door to get a large bamboo pole to help stake up a tomato cage that was tipping under the weight of its gorgeous fruit. As the door creeped up the rails, the wonderful and unmistakable sound of falling sodden ceiling materials splattered at me, with a pronounced splatting much like an angry condor dropping Waffle House's finest on the roof of your new car. A quick tear upstairs and I found the leak on my first guess: the water line for the refrigerator was not pouring, but was definitely pouring forth its secrets like a disaffected CIA wannabe Kerry administration official to the New al-Jazeera Times. Gravity being what it is, the leak was right in the corner, and as luck would have it, it found a tiny hole easier than flowing back out onto the kitchen floor.

Fortunately, turning off the water did the trick, and we actually got the handyman dude on the phone, who had a guy out yesterday morning to fix the garage ceiling. Damage--not bad, considering. Of course, the Sears repairman is not due to come by until sometime after Labor Day. So who has worse service these days: Sears or Dell?

Anyhoo, other than the great refrigerator caper, anniversary was a lot of fun.