Metaphor, simile and all that crap

Thank you, to whomever read the previous blog post and didn't sputter at my statement that I didn't have as much time to write, now that my children are out of the house. Because, of course, it is always a question of how one chooses to spend time, and clearly, with more time at my disposal, I am choosing to not write. Well, duh. Even as I was typing the last post, I was aware of that. So, thank you for not publicly getting on my ass about that.

I've spent the last few months analyzing and closing out the books, if you will, of a large and significant portion of my life-that of "hands on" parenting. I'm not sorry that it is over, although I will admit to missing my daughters company, they are just good people to spend time with, but I am ready (oh more than ready!) to relinquish the 24/7 practical, manual stuff. (The emotional, psychic stuff? Not that long ago, I asked my father when the tiny, back of the mind, always present thought of ones children goes away. He said that he would let me know when it happens.)

Around the time that we were doing the final packing for the younger one to move off to college, we noticed a damp spot in the street, right at the edge of our wall. By the time the older one moved to her apartment and started graduate school, the damp spot had become a small, bubbling puddle. And by the end of September, the puddle became a source of a small stream, that ran down the street in front of our house.

Calling the water company wasn't reassuring. First, I was told that "it wasn't an emergency." Then, I was told (more than once), that it was quite likely that the leak was from one of the pipes belonging to me, not the water company, in which case, any repairs would have to be done, and paid for, by us. As you can see in the second picture, the leak wasn't in the driveway, any repair on "our side" would require us to take down a stone wall and remove quite a bit of earth (and gardens!) from the front of our house for even an exploratory dig.

At the beginning of November, the water company finally sent someone to look into the leak, one man with a shovel, and one man with a cell phone. Then, power tools, and finally, the backhoe appeared. The more they dug, the more, and faster the water welled up. But, the leak was on "their" side, not ours.

Besides intact pipe to contain and safely direct our water, what was on "our side?" Huge rocks and cement block, extending well below the frost line, across the front of, and supporting the house and property.

Whatever the changes, my life is built on a very stable base.