The magnitude of the 'upgrade' cannot be overstated and was, of course, accompanied by requisite angst last Sunday evening. The water heater was up and running, shower curtains installed. Alas, every effort failed to produce more than lukewarm water punctuated by icy shots (insult to injury) from the shower head. My spirits dampened. In an attempt at positive re-frame, I told myself, you’ll adjust. Let go of resistance. It would be neither sane nor feasible to run around South Whidbey perpetually seeking showers. I took a deep breath, shed my clothes and dove in, invigorated in my despair.
What’s next after such peak experience? Well, having opted, first and foremost, for basic function (requiring a mere month-and-a-half), I must still complete the mini-septic to handle the gray water. The trench, the hole for the tank and the drain pipes lie patiently in view of my kitchen window through last week’s nesting session and shower angst and on through Brad and Camille’s party and pig roast Friday, my escape to the Bellingham tango last night, a luxurious sleep-in this morning and blog-posting, just now. Maybe I’ll work on the septic this afternoon… First, I’m going to make fudge.