AN HIMSELF KIND OF DAY in Postcards 4

At one PM last night. I got up to go to the toilet. Yes, I tripped over the rug. And yes, trip altered our whole night and day. I fell onto the toilet. Water rushed out and flooded the bathroom and the hall. Dramatic stuff. I couldn’t understand him when he told me to turn off the water. I didn’t have my glasses on. I did understand the word towel, and I started passing every towel we owned down into the flood.

I think we actually fell back to sleep around three. Almost at dawn G found a showroom for Kohler 19 inch toilets less than a mile from the house. It’s a comfortable height for us two slowed down, long legged folks. It’s good for Grumpy and G to get out too. He did have to go back a couple of times. The hose to connect things was to short and the fittings wrong.

I washed towels. Two tall, teetering stacks of them. Pink and black from the big house main bathroom whose fixtures were all in that sandy pink of the 1950’s. About five clean white towels for this bath. I sat in Grumpy’s comfortable bench seat and read while I keeping one eye on the dryer.

Just as I came upstairs, his new graphics card arrived at last. His computer had died. Not only wouldn’t it turn on, it went to the shop and our repair man diagnosed the graphics dead.

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• Himself: Putting the last screw in to the power cord.


• Myself: This, making slaw, reading.


• Reading: Dick Francis.


• Photo: Unfortunately, a clean bathroom.


• Gratitude’s: That we are almost done working.>