A "Ma," a Murmer, and a Mind (or lack thereof)

So, it is late, no?

That is alright, because "Ma" has solved a great mystery!

It all started when I had a "little" cough during the night, er, morning. Another of the MANY Luden's Cough Lozenges I have taken over the past....*counts on fingers*...OK, the past MONTH..... was having absolutely NO effect. Plus, I was irrevocably wide awake. So, I stealthily located my bottle of Tylenol PM, and equally stealthily located my robe in the closet, then not so stealthily opened the squeaky door....(sorry, Loren)

Upon arriving downstairs, I suddenly recalled a load of wash I had left in the dryer, and another in the washer. The dryer contained socks for the hubby, and the washer held towels that needed to be dried, in preparation to be gotten wet the next morning (OK, that's THIS morning) when people hit the showers.

And so, re-initiating my stealth maneuvers, once again I crept down a stairway, (to the basement, this time) noticing with my ever observant ears, that the water softener was recycling, which, let's face it, you would have to be DEAF not to hear. The soft glow of those ugly curly light bulbs that all men love and most women despise *large intake of air* revealed........*VERY dramatic music, here, folks*........water gushing from a pipe behind the washing machine!!!

*Dramatically HUGE amount of tremendously dramatic organ music*

Ahhh, it is all becoming so very clear, now. Sort of. The gushingness extends to the rim of the washer, where it has obviously been the source of the random amounts of agua found sitting in said device. But....but...how to stop the flow? Stem the tide? Put the kabosh on the wash?

Well! "Ma" has not been given a small, yet occasionally effective brain for nothing! Oh no! Mustering all of her cerebral powers, she thinks. She ponders. She looks on, dumbly. She considers inaction pending cycle's end, followed by more cerebrality. But wait? What is that be-HIND the washer? (no, I mean besides the old, crusty wall, rusted pipes, and cobwebs) Lo, it is a larger open pipe, into which smaller and rather prolific pipes may be fitted. Presumably, so they do not expel water onto washers and floors in a most unattractive manner.

Seeing the chance for fame and glory, not to mention a dry floor, I courageously grasp the small, pulsing pipe and jam it back into the larger one.

*even MORE amounts of dramatical organ music than was previously thought possible*

And then, as all that climactic music fades away, comes the hushed stillness of noble victory. (well, except for the noisy water softener, anyway) A sense of renewed hope and goodwill begins to ooze through each vein and capillary. It is over. *sigh* The world has been made a safer place, in a basement kinda way. And, most importantly, there is one less reason for "Ma" to go totally mad.

*bows head for a moment of silence*

SO, resting in the knowledge that there will be towels for the kids' showers, and socks for Loren's feet, I spin the extra water out of the washer and proceed with the last dryer load.

Now, since I am so VERY much awake, I turn on my computer and start to recount my experience, careful to publish after each paragraph. I do not wish to lose an entire post, and my computer, having become accustomed to rebooting within the first hour, is not a machine to be trifled with. But, neither is "Ma!" For I have confronted the cascading beast of gushience, in all of its ugly wetness, and--I--have--conquered!

I am woman. I am not-quite-mechanically-incompetent. Hear me roar!

Two things I notice while typing:
1) Slader (Mechcanoer) is online, so we chat and swap stories of engines and broken bones,
2) My own mother logs on during these wee hours of the morning, and, like, Mom, you are SOOOOOOooooo busted!

*yawn*

I hear the furtive nibblings and squeaking of mousal creatures. It would seem I have intruded into the land of the nocturnal. All feats of mechanical glory aside, I really should head back to bed. Before the sun comes up.

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