Pull of Gravity

It was two minutes of frantic waving with a bath towel and swearing before I realized that it was the smoke detector further down the hall that had gone off, the first one, closer to the kitchen, isn't even a smoke detector; it has the job of carbon monoxide alerter.  Waving a towel at a CO3 alarm does nothing except increase the mighty fine vocabulary of panic as to why this plastic demon is not shutting up.  Once I addressed the right appliance, things got under control and the swearing also sputtered to a slow, relieved end.  I set up a fan in the kitchen aimed at an open window; it was a successful precaution, and delivered us dinner with no further yelling from the alarm system.

Today was a day of catching up on domestics, namely of retrieving the earring that had gone down the bathroom drain, especially since a lipstick followed it this morning.  Go me.  There's a trap, a U-bend, that fastens on with plastic slip nuts easily turned by hand; no need to drag out the big, lunking plumber's wrench.  I cleared out the undersink cupboard and put a bucket below the connection to catch the water, earring, and lipstick; twisted the pipes apart and abracadabra.  Nothing.

Now, the earring was a slip of a thing, but I didn't think it would wash away; just hadn't noticed that this trap didn't have the small catch-all of a drain-out plug which usually snags small items.  But the lipstick.  Where the heck would a heavy lipstick get itself to?  And how did it get around the bend?  After three seconds of amazement, I put the pipes back together and learned a lesson regarding cheap, shallow, u-bend drain traps.

When I was a kid, one of my goldfish slipped down the drain as the fish bowl was being changed.  The sink had a rubber plug that needed better closure, for my hand snagged the ball chain and floop!  Down went Algernon.  The pipes were exposed, but made of metal not designed for hand maneuvering and required a wrench; I zipped down to the basement workbench, grabbed one besides a round plastic dishpan.  My parents never asked what I was doing unless they smelled something burning.  Me with a wrench and dishpan hurrying into the bathroom raised no interest; either they trusted me or more likely didn't see me, I was very good at being invisible.

A few twists and a flash of orange into the pan deemed success, and even better, the fish was fine if not a tad shaken by the mystery tunnel adventure.  Phew.  Back into the tightly plugged sink while I tightened up the slip nut, being very careful not to leave any scratches on the metal for which I could catch hell but what else was new, you had to take chances and save a fish.  Going to a parent would have meant either a "leave it for your father" or the end point of the solution regardless, a paternal blast of water to wash the fish into the main pipe leading to the town sewer.

I had trained Algernon to weave around my fingers for petting, and to swim through the hoop shape of my thumb and middle finger.  We did a bit of that, I hand scooped my circus fish back into the bowl, scrubbed out the sink, then trundled us upstairs to my room to read.

There is now a 52 gallon tank in front of me with a large fish who will let me pet his nose and will gently grab onto my fingers with his catfish mouth.   He's happier since the classroom guppies have infested the home tank due to school closings, he must like the company.

Time passes, folds and circles round the silver stars, another day ends with a sigh.  Let your dreams be busy as you are in slumber, surrendered to nature's soft enchantment, sleep, tuck under; the universe shifts.