Human Kindness @ Home Depot

There is one glimmering vestige of human kindness and consideration left. It is at a Home Depot store, over four hours from our ranch. Specifically, in a man named Clyde. And his lovely wife, Jen.

Clyde, an assistant manager at the Home Depot, knew about the situation with my washer. Ken, acting manager and Garden Dept. supervisor, and B.J., Appliance Supervisor, had told him all about it. I believe all of them were committed to helping me get a new washer.

Clyde loaded up a brand new washer (after checking to make sure IT wasn't dented) in his personal truck on his day off. He told his wife, "There's a lady who needs our help." And Clyde and his wife Jen drove down to the ranch, on Sunday. They drove over 263 miles one way to get here. And they were happy about doing it.

And then, when they arrived, Clyde helped Number One carry the washer into the house, into the laundry room, and installed it. AND tested it to be sure. Clyde and Number One then loaded up the Washer from HELL so Clyde could take it back to the store. Clyde's wife, Jen, was delightful, visiting with me and the boys and raving about the beauty of the drive and the ranch, telling me that her mom was watching their kids so they could do this. So nice.

She told me what Clyde said about us needing help, and she said, "We just had to do this for you. People just don't take care of each other any more!"

That statement is the exact one I have been saying recently, and I honestly don't know what happened in this world to make people stop helping and taking care of each other. But there is hope. There are still random sparkly specks of humanity--people who will go out of their way to help and take care of other people. Isn't that what life should be about?

Thank you, Clyde and Jen, for making our Sunday brighter, for accepting our offering of fresh pears, and for rescuing me from the pits of washer-less despair. And thank you to Ken, B.J., and everyone else behind the scenes who made this possible. I know where I'm shopping.

The Washer From HELL

You wanna see my new washer in action? I think this says it all. You may want to turn your volume down...and you'll notice how it moves so quickly. Jump on that thing you can take a ride around the room! You think I'm kidding? Nope. Gotta love a Maytag.

*P.S. Please ignore that bunch of crap on top of the dryer.

I need to clean my laundry room. Badly. Don't you?

Cowgirl...Soccer Mom

Can you believe it? Sweet little H-Bomb is playing soccer. In Kindergarten. He really wanted to play, and it only lasts 6 weeks, so here we are. New shoes and shin guards and sweat pants. Practice two days a week, and one “game” each week. Unfortunately one of the practice days is Saturday, so we miss a lot of those. We’ve got quite a few Saturdays planned out already, and soccer didn’t fit in.

The games, on Tuesdays, are hilarious. A bunch of Kindergartners and First Graders, running around the field. Or not. Chasing after the ball. Or a flying plastic bag. Or a dog. Whatever. Usually most of the kids are standing up at least. Sometimes a couple will sit or lie down on the field. We’re definitely still in the “don’t use your hands!” stage. It’s fun. Number One and I have made an effort to learn all the kids’ names so we can cheer them all on, even though we still cheer the loudest for H-Bomb, who excitedly tells us at the end of the game how many times he kicked the ball. (Last game, it was Three Times!)

H-Bomb’s team has two good players on it, one of whom is a First Grader, and the other of whom should be a First Grader because he is six years old. But he was in H-Bomb’s preschool, and here he is in Kindergarten, and now on H-Bomb’s soccer team. (There’s at least one other six-year-old Kindergartner on the team, unfortunately not so good).

Here in our small town, I’ve run into this curiosity: Parents hold their kids back in school. Not for any academic reason, or any learning issues or any other logical reason, but in order for them to be better at sports. This seems not only, how shall I say this…stupid to me, but also quite unfair. Especially to the younger kids, the appropriately-aged kids who should be allowed to play and learn and fumble with other kids their age, instead of automatically having to compete with kids who are bigger, faster and more experienced.

I realize this is life, but it just seems like this small town has got their priorities messed up. Kids will always have to deal with other kids being stronger, faster, better at one thing or another. But why stack the deck against them from the start?

I am ecstatic that during our parent/teacher conference yesterday, H-Bomb’s teacher commented on his excellent reading comprehension and love of reading. So what if he can’t yet “dribble” a soccer ball from one end of the field to the other. He’s no David Beckham, and he probably never will be. But he will continue to love reading and learning and be smart, probably smarter than any of the other kids whose parents want them to excel at sports. I guess I’ll take it. Perhaps he won’t have much competition from kids who are “smarter” because they’ll be too involved in sports all the time to care about how smart they could have been.

Installations

So we got home from The Big City with our new washer and our new toilet. Hooray!

On Monday, they were still in the van so they came to town with me and the boys.

On Tuesday, I took them out of the van, all by myself, just in case Number One might have time to install them between rounding up cattle and heading in to town for H-Bomb’s soccer game. He didn’t. (and I did it ever-so-gently. I am strong from lifting boys.)

On Wednesday, Number One stayed down from the mountain in order to install the washer and the toilet. By the time we were ready to leave for school, Number One had the old washer removed, the disgusting floor underneath the washer swept and mopped, and unpacked the new washer. There was absolutely no visible damage on the outside of the washer box. Upon removing the box, Ranch Hand, who was helping with the washer moving, noticed that both back bottom corners of the washer were dented. I emailed Home Depot, hoping for some money back. We live in the middle of nowhere, and without a washer, decided to install it anyway and hope for the best. They had the new washer in place before the boys and I left. And that’s when the hot water valve started leaking. I added “washer valve thingie” to my town to do list, and Number One put a bucket under the valve.

While the boys and I were in town, Number One successfully installed the toilet. Happy Day. We came home to a shiny, new toilet that even flushes!

I brought home the new valve, and Number One put it all together. We leveled the washer, adjusted and tightened the feet, and voila!

The washer was so completely out of balance that it thrust itself across the floor, banging horribly the whole way until it slammed into the water heater and/or dryer. Seriously, it was lodged diagonally between the two other appliances. We checked the level again; perfect. I ran a desperate load of jeans through, wedging my body between the washer and the water heater during the violent spin cycle.

Today, I called Home Depot. I explained the horrendous knocking and banging from our brand new washer, and suggested that the box had been dropped somewhere along the line. They said they would “make it right” and suggested I first contact Maytag to see if that company would do anything about it.

Maytag, I’m sure you’re familiar with the company with the infamous repairman? The one who is so NOT busy he can help everyone else out? Well, yeah. Right. THAT guy wouldn’t help me. He must be too busy helping everyone else. Anyway, the lady who answered the Maytag line said we were going to have to “find a place to take that washer to and have it repaired” because “we don’t have any service centers in the area.” I totally could have told her that. I told her what was going on, and that we had purchased the washer at Home Depot. She basically told me that Home Depot wouldn’t do anything about it because it had been more than 48 hours and we had transported the washer ourselves. The Maytag Lady told me Home Depot would NOT take care of it.

“Oh. Really,” I said. And I told her what the Home Depot manager had told me about making it right and even “if Maytag can’t help you or even if their timeframe doesn’t work out for you, call back.”

And the Maytag Lady said, “Well, if they offered to help you, you better take them up on it.” She said she was surprised. I didn’t tell her I was glad I hadn’t purchased my washer from an actual Maytag STORE.

So I called Home Depot back. Turns out the guy I had been speaking to was just “acting manager” and really works in the Garden Dept. But he had spoken with two or three other managers, so everyone who is anyone at the store was briefed about my situation. He said there was an appliance repair place one town away (63 miles from our ranch) but when I didn’t sound thrilled about that, he said we deserved a new washer that works and said he would work it out so someone would drive a washer down and install it for us. He would have done it tonight, but tonight didn’t work for us since it’s our stay-in-town night and Number One is on the mountain.

I am not kidding. One of the assistant managers at a Home Depot store more than 4 hours away from our ranch is personally driving a brand new washing machine down to our house. He will install it, make sure it works, and then take the malfunctioning washing machine back with him. On a SUNDAY.

Take that, Maytag. Home Depot ROCKS.

The Big City

Last Thursday, after H-Bomb was out of school and finished with soccer practice, we took 3 pizzas with us to our friend’s house for a short dinner visit, on our way to The Big City for the weekend. Not only did we need to pick up a toilet, but our washer (which has seriously been on its last legs for almost a year) finally quit working too.

We also wanted to go to the State Fair, to see my County Fair-Best of Show-winning photograph. And have a meeting. And go to lunch with my dear new friend. And visit Grandpa and Em. And go to Costco. And Cabela’s. And get H-Bomb some school clothes (never mind that school started over a month ago) and new shoes and soccer shin guards. We had quite a long list, and only three short days to accomplish everything.

Oh, and both Number One and I wanted to get haircuts too.

We got to Grandpa and Em’s house late on Thursday night.

Friday morning, we woke up to Grandpa’s famous waffles. H-Bomb has been excited about those waffles. We went to our meeting, went to lunch with my sweet friend, who suggested we try the “Deep-Fried Peanut Butter and Jelly” at the fair, and then we met Grandpa and Em at the State Fair.

Grandpa wanted to look at some of the animals, but Em and I wanted to head straight for the photograph. So that’s where we went. It was exciting to see my photograph hanging there, at the actual State Fair. But that’s all that was hanging there. My photo did not have a ribbon in the vicinity. Unfortunately, looking at the category in which it was placed, I felt like it had been entered in the wrong category. When the County Fair Manager picked up my photo, I didn’t have a State Fair category list, so I just went along with her “Human Interest” suggestion. But looking at the other pictures in the Human Interest category, mine just didn’t fit in. Next year, I will be more informed.

We took H-Bomb on his very first roller coaster rides! And Sawed Off too. We bought cotton candy. Sorry, we didn’t try the Deep-Fried Peanut Butter and Jelly, or even the Deep-Fried Twinkies. Just couldn’t do it. We did get some snow cones though. The boys had loads of fun.

We looked at a bunch of animals, and now Number One is considering getting some pack goats. You know, goats that will carry your stuff for you. Right. As if I don’t have enough animals to take care of!

We saw the famous butter sculpture. Yes, that's it, above. All made from butter. Actually I don’t know how famous it is, but we saw it. It was carved from I don't remember how many pounds of real butter, and it was pretty cool. And that was the culmination of our afternoon at the fair.

We stopped for dinner at a brewery on our way back to Grandpa’s house.

Saturday morning, Number One and I got our hair cuts early. And then we tried to accomplish everything else on our list. After H-Bomb got some new shoes, he got to hang out with Grandpa for the afternoon while we ran around shopping.

We finished the rest of our shopping on Sunday, picked up a toilet and a washer, and then it was my job to pack the van. Number One doubted that we could fit everything in: a washer, a complete toilet, plus several hundred dollars of items from Costco, Target, etc. (we stock up when we’re around a Costco; I keep a running list of things we need from there) He thought we would have to ask Grandpa to bring the toilet down in his Subaru. But guess what? I did it! We did not have to leave one thing behind. Woohoo!

Another successful trip to the Big City. And cotton candy too. What a great weekend.

Tales of a Toilet

Since Number One broke our toilet, we have been using the one in the bunk house, which is empty right now. Mostly H-Bomb pees in the yard or in the road (we do live in the country, it’s acceptable to do so) but for, shall we say, big jobs, we all have to walk next door. It’s not a huge deal, but it is an inconvenience.

I ordered a toilet from amazon.com, despite the only review it received stating something to the effect of: “Received toilet in pieces. Twice.” I crossed my fingers and ordered it anyway. Then, if you remember, amazon shipped it FedEx. I began to lose all hope.

A couple days later, while I was in town, the FedEx Express guy showed up at the ranch. He tipped the box back and forth for Wifey, so she could hear that the porcelain sounded like so much gravel at the bottom of the box. Wifey refused delivery, and FedEx guy told her if I placed another order, he would be back on Friday.

Wifey texted me this information, and when I returned to the ranch Wednesday night, I placed another order with amazon. No, we still don’t have internet service in town. Backwards, I know.

In the meantime, I saw FedEx guy in town on Thursday. He asked if we had ordered a replacement, and said “see you tomorrow then.”

On Friday in town, I managed to get an internet signal for about two seconds, long enough for me to receive an email from CG’s bookkeeper, who said FedEx guy was trying to call me about the toilet.

I called him and told him where to meet me at the town house. He showed me the box full of toilet shards. “Do you want to refuse delivery again?” he asked.

“Uhhh. Yes,” I replied.

“So let me show you what I did,” FedEx guy said. (Keep in mind this is FedEx Express, a totally separate company from FedEx Ground. Just ignore the advertising and trust me on this). He walked around to the side of his vehicle and opened the door. “I knew you were in a bind down there, so when I went through town [60 miles away from the ranch]…I bought you guys a toilet.”

He went on to say that we didn’t have to take it if we didn’t want it, it didn’t seem to have some of the features the one we had ordered did, but if we wanted it, we could buy it from him. If not, he could return it to the plumbing supply store the following day.

I couldn’t believe it. He totally went out of his way to try to help us out. However, with our upcoming trip to The Big City, we had anticipated buying a toilet of our own. I thanked him profusely for trying to help, but told him we were going to pick one up ourselves.

I still can’t quite believe it. If only someone, anyone at all from stupid FedEx Ground would read this blog and take note. They still claim they can’t even “find” our 6,000 acre ranch…

Amazon would not send out a third toilet, just gave us a refund. We put a toilet on our list for the Big City.

The Daily Grind: To School And Back

School here started three weeks ago, and we are just getting the hang of our little routine. I decided a while ago that I would drive to and from school most days, so we would still get to spend time with Daddy. Also, I’m not sure how exactly I was convinced that 35 miles was too far of a commute—it’s really not that bad. The better we get at our morning routine, the easier the commute becomes. Silly.

So, three days a week, H-Bomb, Sawed Off and I drive back and forth from the ranch to school. We leave the ranch at 10:AM, so we’re in town by 11:AM. We stop at the town house (which H-Bomb and Sawed Off call “the new house”), eat a quick lunch and exchange the van for the bike and bike trailer. We bike the five whopping blocks to school, uphill all the way, to drop off H-Bomb. (although it's not much, hauling a bike trailer with 60-70 pounds of boys in it definitely increases the exercise factor--and it adds up to at least 20 blocks per day! I am already feeling more, um, toned.)

Sawed Off and I bike back, stopping at the post office to get the mail and running any additional errands. At the new house, Sawed Off gets into all of H-Bomb’s art supplies and I follow him around with baby wipes. Why exactly is it that baby wipes clean marker off of everything from walls to leather chairs, but will not clean "washable" marker off skin?

I’ve since put the markers up, but it seems like there is always a stray, and Sawed Off always manages to find it.

I do some work on other projects, but I never seem to get very much accomplished all at once. I think this is a typical situation in motherhood…a short three hours later, we get on the bike again and go pick up H-Bomb. Sawed Off misses his big brother so much; there are always some nice hugs in the afternoon.

We spend the night in town one night a week, because every Friday H-Bomb has two hours of school instead of three hours (everyone else in school has a half day). In addition, school on Fridays starts 45 minutes earlier for the afternoon session. Although I’m sure we could make it here 45 minutes earlier, the logistics of our routine begin to break down: no time for a snack before school, things like that. We just spend the night because we can, and it makes Friday mornings just a bit easier.

Spending the night in town, we make some kind of dinner in the toaster oven, talk about the day, read books, create art. It is nice without a television. We do have one here, but of course there are no stations since we don’t have a satellite dish or cable. It’s just here for looks, I suppose, until I unhook our extra DVD player at the ranch and haul it in here.

The boys, used to quiet ranch living, complain about the noises in town. The traffic. The street lights. The head lights. The people walking by, talking. I complain about these things too. Man it’s hard to sleep here. We bring Mia to town when we’re spending the night so she doesn’t get too lonely. She is also our protector, especially when Daddy isn’t around. I don’t want to spend more than one night a week in town, or I fear I would be even more exhausted than I perpetually am.

The main thing I dislike about the town house? Besides the noisy and the lights, of course…The lack of Internet service! The house is just a block from the visitor center, so I was really hoping to pick up their free wireless signal, but no such luck. We are going to have to address this issue very soon. Occasionally my computer will pick up a random wireless signal, probably from one of the neighbors, but they’re either not strong enough or password protected. I thought of befriending some of the neighbors, but then my Real Simple magazine suggested it was “too tacky” to ask a neighbor for their wireless password. So I guess we’ll just buy our own, if we can ever get an Internet company to recognize our address: which, if there happens to be an Internet company reading this post, HAS BEEN EXACTLY THE SAME SINCE THE HOUSE WAS BUILT IN 1935. There, I said it. I’ll say this, too: You guys are dumb. Can’t locate the house?! Just because it doesn’t come up on your computer, does not mean the address does not exist. Sheesh.

We’re also adding another item to our agenda for the next six weeks: Soccer! H-Bomb was so excited, he wanted to play soccer. The first practice was on Saturday, which meant ANOTHER trip to town. Ugh. I asked the coach to schedule practices after school, any day but Saturday. Luckily the soccer “games” are on Tuesdays, so that’s not an issue. What I don’t understand, though, there is one “practice” on Saturday, and then on the very next Tuesday, there is a “game.” Huh? This oughta be fun to see—a bunch of five- and six-year-olds, running around after a ball, not knowing the first thing about what to do with it. I’ll be sure to bring the video camera.

H-Bomb has come down with another cold, number two in a string of many, I’m sure. He didn’t feel like going to his very first soccer practice, but we went anyway to get the schedule. He ended up making it through the whole practice! Although he really felt like laying down and taking a nap, he said he had fun. And, at least he wasn’t the only kid sitting down in the middle of the field near the end—the “fat kid” was sitting down as well, and for the record, that kid sat down first!

Unfortunately for us, practices have been scheduled for Thursdays and…Saturdays. I guess H-Bomb will just miss several of them as we already have plans. At least Thursday is our regular stay-the-night-in-town night, so it will be perfect.

Now that the house is somewhat in order, I’m finding I have more time to work on other things, like the two necklace orders I currently have. I’m hoping to get enough jewelry made to start selling some online, so stay tuned for that. Hopefully soon...