I said and did some dumb things, and I hurt someone I love. And I think we're on a break.
|Not nearly as funny and charming as it was on "Friends."|
Early Monday morning, a hellacious storm ripped through my town. Trees downed, roads flooded. We lost power for more than six hours. And when it came back on, I was afraid that the power surges we experienced might have fried many of our electronic doodads, including our microwave, our TV, and Precocious Daughter's new XBox. None of them worked once the lights came on. After a few stressful hours of troubleshooting mixed with general freaking out, I discovered that the wiring in my apartment building is...touchy. I mean, I already knew that, since our elevators go on the fritz almost every time is rains. Long story short, I've learned that just because a circuit breaker isn't tripped doesn't mean it doesn't need to be reset (twice) to bring the circuit back online. In the end, the only thing that actually got zapped was the $15 charger for my laptop. Everything else is fine.
Aside: I'm typing quickly because my replacement charger doesn't arrive until tomorrow, so I'm blogging on battery power.
This morning, I went out to my garage and found that Benedict Cumberhatch had a flat tire. And I couldn't find the damn lug wrench to put on the spare.
Roadside Assistance to the rescue, but again, not the best start to the day. (Although I did learn where Ford hides its lug wrench...inside the jack handle. Really, Ford?)
So where does a bean update fit in to all this?
Well, the fierce storm knocked over my pot o'beans. I found them waterlogged, partially crushed under their own container, and looking decidedly worse for wear.
I didn't take pictures of them in that state. It seemed disrespectful.
So I set them upright, straightened their bent stalks the best I could, and hoped for the best.
I'm happy to report that the sproutlings weathered another storm overnight and are bouncing back.
This has definitely been a setback, but they're already pushing out new leaves to replace those battered by wind and rain.
I'll pinch off those yellowed and dead leaves you see, to make room for the new growth.
Texas summers are hard on beans, you guys.
But they weathered the storm, because they're alive and resilient and determined to thrive.
Oh, that would be the metaphor.
Je suis haricot.
Nous somme des haricots.