Except for right this very minute, it's quiet. But let's go back to the other night, the night before Paul's procedure....
We had finished dinner, and were settling in for some Star Wars, when Sonja said exasperatedly from the kitchen, "There is no water coming from the front of the 'fridge. I thought perhaps the intake tube was clogged, hard water and all. Then she announced that there was no water coming from the sink. Ugh. Not now, please, not frozen pipes. Not tonight.
Paul did some investigating, and figured out that the pump for the septic tank was not working, and causing the breaker to switch off. I don't know how he figured that out, but he was right.
Before we headed to the hospital, he called our super nice septic/excavating guy and gave him my cell number to keep updated while we were at the hospital. It's almost hilarious sometimes how these things work...you get a little bit of money, (from the smashed up car), then oh, you need say...a tank of heating oil! Then two vehicles need repairs. Then your septic pump goes. I don't know why, but it just struck me as funny, because it is so typical.
Paul texted me from the hospital and said not to hurry in, his scope thing-y isn't until at least ten, but I am going to head in soon. It's cold in here, I am not sure if the furnace is kicking on....it's always something, isn't it?
But the older I get the more I realize how foolish it is to get all stirred up about each little thing. A tempest in a tea cup. It doesn't do any good.