A/N: This is a non-fiction story. I remind you once again of that fact,
because as I was proofreading before posting this, I found myself shaking
my own head in disbelief. I'm too tired to change anybody's name. If it
looks like you and sounds like you, it's YOU, okay?
Thanks again to PuterPatty and leail for the instant beta services. They're working overtime to make sure you're getting these chapters the second I finish typing them.
I make no claim or profit from the mentioning of Vanna White and "Wheel of Fortune", nor do I mean her any harm. She's a goddess, and I wish I looked that good. I won't say 'at her age', because I AM her age. I have no claims to any of the other brand names or chains included in here either.
Anor is elvish for the sun.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 20 The Difference Between The Men and The Boys
The morning wanes on with the happy sounds of mass destruction ringing in my ears. Scraping, sawing, hammering, creaking, and grinding waft through the air, punctuated with the sounds of grunting and groaning and humming and even the occasional elven giggle. Every time I hear the back door open, I visualize one more piece of moldy wood working its way out the door to the debris pile in the backyard. It's the melodious sound of Joe's voice saying, "You want to try the Sawsall, Legolas?" that sends my hair standing straight up on end.
"No," my brain whispers inside my skull. "Just say no." I already promised Yes Dear this morning that I would stay in the computer room and not interfere. He called it "micromanage," but we all know I'd NEVER do that.
"Oeh, boey! Dat wuld bea grate!" exclaims the Prance.
Yeah, that's what I figured.
I turn up the volume on the CD player beside me and go back to working on my beta reading responsibilities. A few minutes later, a worried looking elf-prince shows up at my door.
"Joe waentz tu noe whur da braekur boex iz."
"It's in the coat closet right there behind you. Do I need to turn the power off? Let me save this chapter I'm working on. Just a second. . . . "
"No, no," says Joe from behind Legolas where he's already opening the closet door and flipping switches in rapid sequence. "You won't have to do that."
"Is anything wrong?" I ask, watching Prance Helpful nervously hitch his jeans up over his boxer shorts.
"Roeng?" gulps the Prance.
"Oh, no, nothing to worry about," says Joe, turning to flash me a dazzling smile with many more teeth than he usually keeps in there. "I just need to turn the power to the refrigerator off."
Okay. So I'm not going to worry. Nope. I don't really need to know why all of a sudden the refrigerator power needs to be cut off, especially since the refrigerator is plugged into a socket all the way over in the den.
Joe dashes back through the plastic sheeting to the kitchen at about five times his usual speed, with Prance Helpful hot on his heels. This has got to be a bad sign. I can't stand it any longer, so I push back from the keyboard, drain my tea glass, and head through the plastic to see what's going on.
"How's it coming?" I ask, walking nonchalantly over to the refrigerator and opening the door to refill my glass. The little refrigerator light in there is working just fine. I peer over the cluster of heads gathered around the electrical socket over there near the back door where the refrigerator usually sits. All three of them are staring down where the wire now protrudes down out of the wall at floor level from the socket from above. On closer inspection, I see the matching wire that is protruding up from the plywood flooring itself.
Hmmm. There used to be only one wire there.
"It's coming along," Lou says. "Slight delay, but we're working on it."
The Prance is busy doing his imitation of a box turtle that's just been picked up by a gang of small boys.
Joe reaches over toward Legolas and pops the roll of black electrical tape from his toolbelt. He tears off a chunk and proceeds to hook the wiring back together.
"There we go. All fixed," says Joe. He picks up the Sawsall from its spot on the floor beside the newly taped wiring and hands it to Prance Helpful. "Okay, buddy, keep going."
"Ar u shur?" asks the Prance.
That's about the time I realize what just happened. Legolas apparently just sawed his way through a live electrical wire carrying 120 volts of electricity and lived to tell about it. Except right now he's not telling.
"It was just an accident. No harm done," Joe says, switching the Sawsall on and pointing to the place he wants Elfboy to resume cutting. He throws me a sweet and innocent smile that mirrors not only the one on the Prance's face, but Lou's as well.
As I raise my finger and start to say, "I think . . . ," I hear Yes Dear's voice echoing inside my head in a little repeat of the conversation we had before he left for work this morning:
[ Promise me you won't hang over their shoulders.
I promise.
Promise me you won't micromanage.
Alright! I promise! ]
"Nevermind," I mouth, turning to head back to the computer room before I do something I might regret later.
About ten minutes later I hear the Sawsall stop running. Thirty seconds after that, the Prance is standing at the computer room door again. This time he's sopping wet.
"Joe waentz tu noe whur da wader kuet-oeff vaelve iz."
"Water cut-off valve?"
"Yaes."
"It's outside at the meter near the road. Why does Joe need to know wh. . . . ?" That's when the rushing sound of a cascading waterfall reaches my attention.
"Legolas?"
He pauses in his efforts to wring the water out of his braided hair. "Yaes?"
"Why is the water running in the kitchen?"
"Oeh, al! U shuld coem sea da perty foewntin dat we hav en da keetchin! Da wader iz maekin spaerkulz like diamundz en da lite en dere!"
I'm almost elf-like in my speed and grace as I fly out of the chair and into the kitchen. Springing from a hole in the waterpipe that supplies the kitchen sink, I find the most lovely spray of crystal clear water shooting from the floor all the way to the ceiling, all over my brand new upper cabinets, all over the new light fixture, and all over the brand new range hood. The paint is drip, drip, dripping off the ceiling above all over the exposed plywood floor below.
"Doen't u jest lub it?" he whispers, totally in awe as he stands there beside me with his hands clasped together, pressed against his chest.
I can't do anything but stare.
"It duz maek u speachluss," he breathes.
I must be standing with my mouth hanging open, for the Prance reaches out his hand and gently nudges me under the chin and says, "Jest noed ur haed uep an doewn whin I sae it'z jest purfickt." He gives my head a little lift up to get me started.
About ten seconds later the fountain dies down to a spray and then to a trickle before sputtering to a stop. The back door opens and a soggy Joe steps in.
"It'll dry just fine. I promise," he apologizes.
I stop to consider my possible reactions at this stage.
(a) Nuclear fission. Blow a gasket, drop the bomb, have a cow, whatever you want to call it.
(b) Sit in the corner blubbering my lip and rocking back and forth until they strap me into a white jacket and haul me away.
(c) Sink to the floor wailing, moaning, and tearing my clothes asunder.
(d) Stare vacantly at a spot on the ceiling and pretend to be totally comatose, a sudden and complete victim of Alzheimer's disease.
The safest one seems to be (e) Continue to play deaf and dumb and pretend that by the end of the day everything will be better than it was before.
I put on my happiest, most sincere smile and with as much enthusiasm as I can muster, say, "You do ceilings too, right?"
"Yeah," Joe answers with a smile, glad to see I didn't pick (a) through (d) above.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The guys go back to scooping up soggy particleboard. In about a half hour, the noise emanating from my kitchen has died down to nothing. I hear the truck crank up, but before I can close out my computer program, they have pulled out of the driveway and headed up the hill outside.
Wandering through the protective plastic sheeting, I find to my surprise that my destruction-construction crew of three have pulled up the entire floor. I mean THE ENTIRE FLOOR. There's nothing left of my kitchen except the two-by-twelve joists running parallel to each other every foot or so from the back door to the den carpet. You can see dirt between them four feet below.
"Legolas?" I call.
"Yaes?" answers a voice from the deck.
"Where did Lou and Joe go?"
"Tiem fur luench!" he announces. "Dey weant tu Buergur Keeng."
The Prance and I settle for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with sour cream and onion potato chips. I have the grape jelly and Elfboy spreads on the strawberry jam.
"Don't you think that's enough?" I ask, watching the jam slide out of his bread and plop thickly to the paper plate in front of him. It's actually leaking through the bottom of his sandwich in places. It would be an apt name to list it on the menu as "Strawberry Sandwich with Bread and Peanut Butter."
"U kin neber hav enuf straewburry jaem," he mumbles through a mouthful of the sticky stuff.
Indeed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
An hour later, Joe and Lou are back in action, measuring and sawing and measuring again. Joe goes over to the big trailer where he keeps his supplies and pulls out a gas-powered air compressor, hooking it up to something that looks rather like an overpowered stapler. As Joe steps back over to the trailer, I see Legolas reach over and pick the object up.
"NO! NO!" shouts Lou.
Joe makes a quick about-face and rescues the thing from Elfboy's arms. He laughs nervously. "Not this one, buddy. This one's a bit more dangerous than those other tools you've been using."
A bit more dangerous? He's already sawed through a water pipe and almost jolted himself with 120 volts of electricity, not to mention how close the blade of the circular saw came to his pretty face only a few days before.
"Whut'z dat?" Legolas asks, staring awestruck at the big-man's toy.
"This, my friend," says Joe, "is a pneumatic nailgun."
"Dey coem en newmaetikz?" he asks, astonished. He turns to me. "I'm gittin won."
"I don't think so," I scoff. "You're still not too old for your wants to hurt you."
Elfboy pouts.
By six o'clock, they're finishing up. My kitchen now has upper cabinets AND a new plywood floor. Don't look up at the watermark on the ceiling, okay?
"Thanks, Joe," says Yes Dear, cutting the check and handing it over. "The place looks great."
"I'll be back Monday morning to pick up the debris with my other trailer," Joe says. "Bye, Legolas! Thanks for the help!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
First thing on Friday morning, Yes Dear's at the hardware store purchasing electrical wire and plumbing supplies. He's decided to rewire and replumb both whole sections rather than leave patches at floor level. Since the thing that got us into this mess in the first place involved a leak in the plumbing somewhere near the same area, I'm all in favor of putting off having a functioning sink for another day or two to avoid having to do all of this over again.
It takes six hours on Saturday for him to pull the old out and put in the new. The electricity is easy to check . . . just plug in the refrigerator and watch the little light inside glow. The water is another whole story.
But then you guessed I'd say that, didn't you?
He has to turn off the water and cut a hole in the drywall to replace the pipe. We have to go for several hours without being able to wash our hands, ride the washing machine, or flush the toilet. Guess who has the hardest time with that?
When it comes time to test the pipe for leaks, Yes Dear sends Lil' Pip and Legolas to keep an eye on the pipe in the kitchen while he takes me underneath the house so he can show me the new cut-off valve he's put in. We're standing directly underneath them, so we can hear every word they're saying.
"I doent sea enithaeng," says the Prance.
"Don't put your head so close," fusses Lil' Pip. "I can't see through your thick skull."
"Buet nuthin'z haeppinen eniwae," whines the Prance. Then comes the sound of flesh smacking flesh.
"OOEEWW!"
"Daddy said don't touch anything!"
"I deen't tuch it! I wuz jest raestin my haend dere."
"Well, don't do that. You might turn it on by accident or something."
They quiet down for a few seconds, so Yes Dear figures it's a good time to give instructions once again while they can hear him.
"Just watch for leaks, and holler if you see any," he calls up to them.
"Okay, Dad!" yells Lil' Pip.
"Okae!" screams Legolas.
We could have heard them both if we were on Mars.
"Move your dumb head! I can't see!" shouts Lil' Pip.
Shaking his head, Yes Dear reaches over and turns the faucet handle on.
There's the squeak of water filling the new pipe, then nothing. Suddenly there's a loud pop, followed by a bloodcurdling shriek and the rush of cascading water.
Yes Dear quickly turns the valve to stop the flow. We both crawl out from underneath the house at top speed and run to see what damage has been done this time.
When we open the kitchen door, there stands Lil' Pip, drenched in water. Her glasses are askew on her face, and they're covered in water drops. Legolas is lying on the den carpet clutching his belly and convulsing.
"This is ALL HIS FAULT!" screeches Lil' Pip.
Apparently Yes Dear was so tired from the day's activities that he remembered to glue all but the last bend of PVC pipe. The very bend that makes the turn up from the bottom of the house to inside through the wall. The very bend that Lil' Pip apparently had her eye on, watching carefully from only a few inches away. The very bend that Legolas is now holding in his left hand while he holds his jiggling, giggling belly with his right as he writhes on the den floor, laughing at his sopping wet, bossy, substitute little sister.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Okay, so it takes two whole weeks before Yes Dear calls and reminds Joe about the debris pile so he will come to get the moldy stinking mess from under my laundry line, but who's counting? Everybody's busy trying to get their home repairs and improvements done before the Thanksgiving holiday. We've been busy ourselves putting in the new bottom cabinets and installing the stove. The man from Valinor is coming on Tuesday to put in the almost- Elbereth-kissed countertop, and the crew from the flooring store is supposed to be here on Wednesday to install the new linoleum.
That gives me just enough time to stuff everything I've stashed all over my house back into the new cabinets before my mother to get here for a combination late Thanksgiving, late Lil' Pip's birthday, and the big Hanging of the Greens ceremony at church on Sunday.
Tuesday morning, I get a call from Tommy the countertop man. He's going to be a little late, seems he's got to ride into Greenwood to pick up (you fill in the blank).
Fortunately, Tommy comes highly recommended by my friend Terry, who had him install a countertop in her kitchen some time ago. Terry says she even paid him extra as a tip because he was so good. Now Terry is an astute shop-a- holic, and never has one been born as cunning as she. Terry can spot a sale from a mall-length away, and she can quote prices and advertised specials for not only every store here at home, but in Greenwood as well. She's a real pro, and if she paid him extra, you can bet he earned every single penny.
Tommy walks in the door with a contract in hand. In it, I am required to provide for him and his crew bathroom facilities and water supply for drinking as well as washing up. It stipulates exactly how much I have paid for every little sawdust particle floating in my air, and before he even starts, he has his assistant sweeping off my carport. Note that was HIS assistant, not mine.
"Kin I hep?" asks Prance Helpful, hanging a half-inch off Tommy's left elbow.
"My insurance doesn't cover you," Tommy says, stepping to the right to recover his personal space.
Legolas turns on the pathetic lost puppy-dog face. "Kin I jest wach den? I proemiss noet tu git en da wae."
"I'm sorry," says the countertop man firmly. "You'll have to stay in the den. You can watch from there."
"Come on, Legolas," I call from the doorway. "Let's go back in."
"Buet dat's soe faer awae!" whines the Prance. Nevermind that it's only a cabinet's breadth from the den to the kitchen, and he's an immortal who can tell a hawk from a hunting eagle a mountaintop away, and deliver a deadly arrow precisely to a shadow's vital point in the dead darkness of night. Sometimes even three feet is entirely more than an elf can take.
I turn on the television and pop in the tape I made of "Wheel of Fortune" yesterday. I've been hoping against hope that somehow his spelling will improve while he's guessing the letters and trying to figure out the word puzzles, but so far he's spent more time imitating Vanna White's walk and commenting on whatever wardrobe faux pas he thinks she's committed most recently than he does concentrating on solving the problems. Soon he's parked himself three feet from the screen in the middle of the den carpet and has forgotten all about the sawing going on outside the back door.
"Dat kulur duzn't luuk guud oen her. I likd da grean won she woar yaesturdae bedder," he grumbles. "Whie duz she leat doze peepul peek owt her draessiz fur her? She noez whut she'z duein, she noez whut luuks guud."
If Legolas was helping Vanna with her wardrobe, she'd wear green everyday. Maybe the occasional blue, or even a silver sequined number so she'd sparkle like the stars. He's really mesmerized by Vanna. A part of me wonders if it's actually Vanna he wants, or if he'd be just as happy owning everything in her closet.
I manage to keep Prance Helpful occupied, and in less than half the time I expected it would take, Tommy's finished the kitchen and is ready to go. He talks to me about how to care for the countertop, how to clean it and how to polish it, and he makes sure I know not to cut anything on it without using a cutting board. He even gives me a printed handout listing all the approved over-the-counter brands of cleaners I should use.
Legolas spends the rest of the evening stroking it. Yes Dear spends his evening putting in the new sink and hooking up the water. Lil' Pip spends her evening begging for a new smoothie maker for her birthday to put in her favored location.
I spend my evening being thankful for blessings I often forget I even have.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning we're up bright and early, ready for the new linoleum. As I'm straightening up the morning's chaos and Legolas is playing in the water instead of washing the breakfast dishes, I get a phone call. You guessed it. The linoleum man is going to be a little late.
"I'm sending out a guy who'll give you a quote on the price once he sees the site," says the guy who's supposed to already be here. "He'll be bringing the supplies you paid for with him."
"Wait a minute, I thought you were coming? And I already have a price!" I say, not sure if I like last minute subcontracting.
"Whut'z da maettur?" says the Prance, his curiosity piqued at my raised voice. He's dripping soap suds from his elbows onto the den carpet, so I shoo him back to the sink.
"What time is he supposed to be here?"
"He's already left. He's real reasonable. He'll give you a good price."
Two hours later, I call back to the floorcovering store and ask to speak to my salesman. He assures me he knows the installer who's coming, that he's already been to the warehouse and picked up my new linoleum, and says he should be arriving any minute now.
Legolas heads to the bay window up front to keep a watch. Half an hour later, I find him curled up there on the ledge in the sun, nestled between the four cats. His eyes are open and trained on the road, but there's nobody home. Anor has claimed its fifth victim of the day.
Two hours after that, I'm back on the phone to the salesman. "He's not here yet," I complain. "I only live forty-five minutes from the store. Can you check on him, please?" I have visions of my new kitchen floor lying in the back of a van at the bottom of a ravine somewhere between here and there.
The phone rings back less than a minute after I sit it back down on the coffee table. It's the linoleum man. He's on the way.
I breathe a sigh of relief, glancing at the clock as he asks me for directions to the house.
"Where are you coming from?" I ask.
The town he's currently in is forty-five minutes from me, alright. That's forty-five minutes in THE OTHER DIRECTION from where he supposedly started out four hours ago.
"Why are you there and not here? That's not even on the way!" I fuss, concerned now that he's going to charge me a distance fee on the transportation.
"I left my tools in the van. I'm using the pickup truck today," he says.
"Let me get this straight," I say. "My brand new linoleum has been riding around in the back of your pickup truck for four hours now?"
"Yes, Ma'am," he says. "It's nice weather out."
I wonder if he's going to charge me for a sightseeing tour too?
"How long will it take you to get here?"
"Well, I'll stop for lunch on the way, so I figure I should be there in another couple of hours or so."
"You mean to tell me you're not going to get here for another two hours?" Now he's not going to arrive until I'm already supposed to be at work. Matter of fact, I'm technically late now, with as much work as I usually have to do the day before we close for a holiday. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and most people would be expecting the relatives to start showing up on the doorstep by then. The stores will all be closing before he can get here to survey the job to see if he's got all he needs, and they'll be closed for at least one more day tomorrow if he doesn't finish it tonight.
"Yes, ma'am. I don't mind working for as long as it takes."
"Well, I can't wait that long. We'll have to reschedule."
The next day he can come isn't until Dec 11th. Fifteen days from now, and only six days before Legolas is leaving.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lub Ledderz frum Legolas
ariarwen: al deed fiex me uep guud. She tuuk me tu sea Joyce at da Beeutie Paerlur, an noew u kin't eben tael whut haeppind tu my hare! I lub tu goe sea Joyce. She haz meeny enturaesteeng theengz en her shoep. Deed u sea me treep whin I wuz ruenning akros da hilltoep aftur da Uruks dat haed taekin Merry an Pippin en TTT? Dat wuz jest my wae of sayen tu al dat I wuz okae. Goe bak an luuk fur it. It'z rite beafoar Araporn akz me whut due my eyez sea. *huegz u*
Jastaelf: GAH! You had to go and say that while he had a plate full of Strawberry Sandwich with Bread and Peanut Butter, didn't you??! Now look at this mess! *wipes Prance clean while he tries to pull himself back together* *snatches paper plate as he takes Dive #2* I'm still working on the pic you requested about the washing machine ride. I'll add the Carpenter's Apprentice to your request list. One day. . . . Hey! Trade you a pic for a new chapter of Dark Leaf! Hmmm??? *draegz sef entu chare* Hae! She'z noet my muthur. She'z my ruummaet! *gitz ober da hueffie staege an doez Ada's relakzashun eggsesieziz* I waent Ada tu noe I wuz a tuff worrier an deed noet krie, noe madder whut Leedle Peep sez. *foeldz haendz ober chaest an glaerz at Leedle Peep* *glansiz doewn at haendz an seaz da gloeb of jaem en my hare* Oeh, noew luuk whut u'v dun! *rueshiz oeff tu da bafruum tu fiex dis turribel maess u hav maed en my hare*
Max Jive: Oh, God. I don't even want to THINK of having a pirate-wanna-be living in my closet. Or my spare bedroom, for that matter. Just imagine all the trouble he could get in. . . .*shudders* U doen't like my Caerpinturz luuk? *tuernz arond tu giv u a chaense fur it tu groew oen u* Whut'z roeng wid my Caerpinturz luuk? Eberybuddie ealse theenkz it'z saexy. . . .
Lady Peredhel: If dey doen't groew bak rite, Joyce at da Beeutie Paerlur kin fiex dat! I hoep u ar steel en lub whin u git dis maessege. Lub iz a vary wundurful thaeng. *seandz u a kees an a fiev pownd baeg of suegur tu uze oen dat goerjus hueman guey*
Newmoon: I furgiv u, buet u bedder noet due it agin! I STEEL LUB U TUU! al sez dat maeybee won daey she weel git bizy an draew a pikshur of me az a Caerpintur. She'z waetin oen Jasta, u sea. *seandz u a beeg skweeaze*
daw the minstrel: al'z noet teezin! I reely deed cuet my hare wid da saewblaed! She's not talking about that, nin caun. She's discussing another matter entirely. *luukz toetully loest* She's talking about how nice you looked in your Carpenter's Apprentice outfit, baby. *greenz gleafuelly* Oeh, dat! *blueshiz*
Chan: I hav Caerpintur'z Braydz noew, Chan! Sea? *tuernz soe u kin sea* I lub wurkin wid tuulz. I lernd tu wurk oen kaerz wile I wuz hear tuu. I jest dunnoe if I weel bea abul tu tuern all dis enfoermashun entu enithaeng proeduktiv whin I git bak hoem or noet. *healpz u bak uep an gievz u a beeg hueg wile u puell ursef tugethur*
caranwen: Ur goenna maek me krie if u keap dis uep! Noe moer saed ledderz, okae? Tho I deed theenk it wuz vary beeuteeful. I wuld lub it if u keap riting me, buet doen't bea soe saed, okae? *huegz u*
Raider-K: It wuz a naestee saew uenteel Yaes Deer goet all da hare ouwta it. I oenlee deed dat thaeng wid my boexurz dat won tiem. U hav da meamoeree of da dwaervz, hannon le vary muech. An I oenlee deed it den beakuz al deedn't tael me hoew tu due it rite, an dey wear soe pertie! Jest like u *greanz an smuuchiz u*
Writer From Rivendell: *gievz u a grate beeg hueg* I em noet reatuerneeng dis tiem. Dere iz jest noe wae fur dat tu haeppin. *haendz u a neadulnoez plyer an a teany leedle skruwdrievur* Hear, trie dis. . . .
Nilmandra: Dis duemb theeng seamz tu due dat aloet. al haz ur stoerriez oen her liest of theengz tu reed tu hep her wonse I em goen. She theenkz ur stoerriez weel maek her feal bedder, an I due tu. U woen't git en da elfleeng wae if I jest kees u, rite?? *pukurz uep*
Grammar Laedee: Buet I LUB da Tucheeng Me Gaem! I waent tu teech it tu Gimli. He alreedy soert of noez hoew tu plae. He'z alwaez rayzeeng heez voywse an kumplayneeng abot sumpthaeng lowd enuf fur eberybuddie tu here heem. I theenk al wuld giv me da wite keetie. Noet Preensis Elizabef, buet dat othur wite won dat cheuwd thru da neuw wader liem uendur da seenk wile Yeas Deer wuz uender dere enstaelleeng it. *seandz u sum elbin lub*
Holly :o) : U muest hav reely loeng hare den! Due u uze Paenteen? I lub Paenteen! *shaekz loeng bloend lokz en an ematashun of da Paenteen gurl oen tee vea* I'll bea wachin fur u! *snuegglz u*
Landos Star: Buet it wuz my HARE!!! MY HARE!! *wheempurz* I deedn't krie, tho. I wuz a vary braeve worrier. I proemis tu e-male u sum pikshurz of my elfleengz, buet u weel hav tu wate unteel e-male iz envintid en Meedle-erth furst. Dat culd bea a vary loeng tiem indeead. Oeh, an bie da wae, al sez it'z her JOEB noet tu leat me get nekkie. *geegglz an proseedz tu maek al ern her paecheak*
SarWolf Snape: I weant tu sea Joyce at da Beeutee Paerlur, an she feexed me rite uep! Due u like it? *doez da Paenteen gurl thaeng frum da tee vea agin, den gievz u a beeg hueg*
Space-Case 7029: al iz haerd tu teeze. U goetta wach dat Yaes Deer duzn't fiend ouwt abot it. He mite huert me. al sez tu tael u dat she deedn't haev eni saenatee tu beagin wid, soe u doen't haev tu wurry abot her. *Kueddlz u uep en my aermz*
The Karenator: *hepz u puet ur feat uep, ruebz ur toez* Duz dat maek it all bedder? I hoep u ar fealin stroengur eberydae. U shuld sea all da thaengz I kin due wid a haemmur dat al DEEDN'T tael u abot! Gimli iz shur goenna bea suerprized! *gievz u a kaerful skweeaze an a beeg kees*
The Two Princesses: Buet I like theengz dat maek lowd annoeyeeng noiwze! Dere's POEWUER en dat sownd! If Sauron haed maed heez Reeng a leedle lowdur, Bilbo wuld hav neber goet it en da furst plaese! Muthurz ar sueppozed tu bea embareassing. Dat'z hoew dey git ober all doze nitez dat dey muest stae awaek razing cheeldrin. I hav a kwestshun fur u. . . whut ez ur faevurit kulur? *seandz u sum XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXXOXO's*
Fadesintothewest: I hoep u ar steel dueing bedder. If dey eber maek a moovie abot Bilbo, maebee I weel bea abul tu coem bak. Unteel den, I muest reatuern tu Meedle-erth. Araporn weel need a skeeld worrier like me. U neber noe whin a guud skruwdrievur weel coem en haendee. *huegglz u*
Lady Silence: MMmm. . . . Peaz. *foergievz u eenstuntlee, thin priez u oeff wunse I kin't breeth enimoer frum ur gloem* Mmmm. . . .noew I thaenk I've haed tuu muech suegur tuu. Iz dis faest enuf fur u wid da chaeptur poesteeng?
Michelle6: Deed u git all moevd en? I hoep soe. Giev Matt a kees fur me tuu. *gievz u tuu keesiz soe u weel hav eggstra*
SperryDee: Mebbe won dae al weel draew a pikshur of me en my Caerpintur'z Appreantise ouwtfeet.*Heetchiz uep jeenz ober "Maerrie Chreestmis" boexurz agin* Owr katz due dat tu. Yaes Deer wierz da trea tu da waell en thraee plaesiz. Dat hepz. *seandz u sum elbin lub, baybee*
Dunrosiel: U nead a vakashun. Mebbe Chreestmus iz coemin tuu laet fur u. Haeng en dere, a brake iz coemin, I noe. I'll aesk Saentu Klauwz whin I sea heem tu seand u dat fur Chreestmus. *Huegz u kaerfuelly en kaes it'z cuntageeus*
VladimirsAngel: *strykez a poze fur u* Iz dis guud? Hoew abot dis won? *duz anuthr* It'z da Paenteen cundishuner dat maekz ur hare shyne like dis. I'm steel feegureng ouwt hoew tu git sum of dat bak tu Meedle-erth. *huegz an keesiz tu u*
Tricia: Hannon le fur ur greef fur my hare loess. It wuz kwite paynful, buet noe maettur whut Leedle Peep sez I DEED NOET KRIE! *daerz Leedle Peep tu sae enithaeng* *skweeazez u*
elf from Rivendell: Mae Govannen! Hearz anuthr kees, sinse u liked dat won soe waell. *bloewz u a beeg sloeepie waet won* Sae hae tu eberybuddie fur me. Namarie!
anna: *blueshiz* Ur eambareassing me! Eben my eerz ar raed! *kovurz eerz wid my haendz* Yaes, dat al iz smaert az puempkin pie, she jest maerched me doewn tu Joyce at da Beeutee Paerlur an goet me all feexd uep! *gievz u a snueggul*
leail: Dat chaeptur wuz abot caebinetz an leenoleeum an . . . wate a minit! Dat'z noet whut u mint, iz it?? Kloze ur eyez, Cara7 an Andy8 *groewlz an gievz u da burfdae kees u reely deasurve*
Katani Petitedra: I doen't theenk u hav enithaeng moer tu woerrie abot. Dose lineeur ekwashunz doen't hoeld a kaendul tu u. U luuk nise like dat, bie da wae. . . . *geeglz*
Arienna DyBane: *wied oepin eyez fur ur kees an hueg suerprizd me!* I gess whin u've bean duein ur oewn hare fur aelmoest threa thowsend yeerz, u goetta git guud at it sumtiem. Giv ursef a feuw moer yeerz, nin mellon. *huegz u bak*
Miss Aranel: Yaes Deer sumtiemz caellz me "Tim" beakuz of dat "Home Improvement" shoew. He duzn't luuk enithaeng like Al on dere, jest like I doen't luuk enithaeng like Tim. It haez bean kwite an aedvenshur. U noe, if peepul wuld jest waesh dere haendz az muech az elves due, dey wuldn't git sieck neer az oeftin. *huegz u titely*
PuterPatty: Dat al iz suech a shieneeng staer, izn't she?? *pawzes wile eberybuddie noedz dere haedz* al waentz tu noe if u wear taelkin abot my hare whin u meanshund emagineeng theengz dat aern't reely haepenning. I thot u likd my tite jeenz? al sez she remimburz doze kiend of thaengz spasificully tu tael jest fur u. *u taest like da cheasekaek u haed fur luench at dat plase u like tu eet at, deed u noe dat meleth?*
Leedle Peep: I herd whut haeppind en da gurlz kaebin. I theenk I wuld hav prefurrd da boeyz. Eggspashully wid "Da Waerdin" patroelling da haellz all nite. Reemiendz me of Maestur Tanglinna bak hoem en Mirkwood. Dear Darling Daughter, I love to talk to you in the reviews. Now get off the computer and go clean your room. *geegulz* Hush, elfboy, you're not making things any better. Get off your duff and go help her. You made the mess with the Barbie's while she was gone anyway. *suelkz off powteeng*
Lord Elrond's Baliff: Soe glaed tu sea u! al sez thaenk u fur da beast weeshiz, an I thaenk u fur keapin doze skaerrie faengurlz awae. I nead ALL my hare, u noe? I wuz jest wundureeng abot da suppeena. . . deed u furgit tu breeng won fur al? Aftur all, she meatz 18 of da 19 kritearia fur beeing a Maerrie Suew. She shuld git sum tipe of awaerd, doen't u agrea? *biedz u faerweal uentil nekzt tiem*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That's it for today. Keep checking daily! Send those lub ledders quick, cause soon there won't be any more time!
Thanks again to PuterPatty and leail for the instant beta services. They're working overtime to make sure you're getting these chapters the second I finish typing them.
I make no claim or profit from the mentioning of Vanna White and "Wheel of Fortune", nor do I mean her any harm. She's a goddess, and I wish I looked that good. I won't say 'at her age', because I AM her age. I have no claims to any of the other brand names or chains included in here either.
Anor is elvish for the sun.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 20 The Difference Between The Men and The Boys
The morning wanes on with the happy sounds of mass destruction ringing in my ears. Scraping, sawing, hammering, creaking, and grinding waft through the air, punctuated with the sounds of grunting and groaning and humming and even the occasional elven giggle. Every time I hear the back door open, I visualize one more piece of moldy wood working its way out the door to the debris pile in the backyard. It's the melodious sound of Joe's voice saying, "You want to try the Sawsall, Legolas?" that sends my hair standing straight up on end.
"No," my brain whispers inside my skull. "Just say no." I already promised Yes Dear this morning that I would stay in the computer room and not interfere. He called it "micromanage," but we all know I'd NEVER do that.
"Oeh, boey! Dat wuld bea grate!" exclaims the Prance.
Yeah, that's what I figured.
I turn up the volume on the CD player beside me and go back to working on my beta reading responsibilities. A few minutes later, a worried looking elf-prince shows up at my door.
"Joe waentz tu noe whur da braekur boex iz."
"It's in the coat closet right there behind you. Do I need to turn the power off? Let me save this chapter I'm working on. Just a second. . . . "
"No, no," says Joe from behind Legolas where he's already opening the closet door and flipping switches in rapid sequence. "You won't have to do that."
"Is anything wrong?" I ask, watching Prance Helpful nervously hitch his jeans up over his boxer shorts.
"Roeng?" gulps the Prance.
"Oh, no, nothing to worry about," says Joe, turning to flash me a dazzling smile with many more teeth than he usually keeps in there. "I just need to turn the power to the refrigerator off."
Okay. So I'm not going to worry. Nope. I don't really need to know why all of a sudden the refrigerator power needs to be cut off, especially since the refrigerator is plugged into a socket all the way over in the den.
Joe dashes back through the plastic sheeting to the kitchen at about five times his usual speed, with Prance Helpful hot on his heels. This has got to be a bad sign. I can't stand it any longer, so I push back from the keyboard, drain my tea glass, and head through the plastic to see what's going on.
"How's it coming?" I ask, walking nonchalantly over to the refrigerator and opening the door to refill my glass. The little refrigerator light in there is working just fine. I peer over the cluster of heads gathered around the electrical socket over there near the back door where the refrigerator usually sits. All three of them are staring down where the wire now protrudes down out of the wall at floor level from the socket from above. On closer inspection, I see the matching wire that is protruding up from the plywood flooring itself.
Hmmm. There used to be only one wire there.
"It's coming along," Lou says. "Slight delay, but we're working on it."
The Prance is busy doing his imitation of a box turtle that's just been picked up by a gang of small boys.
Joe reaches over toward Legolas and pops the roll of black electrical tape from his toolbelt. He tears off a chunk and proceeds to hook the wiring back together.
"There we go. All fixed," says Joe. He picks up the Sawsall from its spot on the floor beside the newly taped wiring and hands it to Prance Helpful. "Okay, buddy, keep going."
"Ar u shur?" asks the Prance.
That's about the time I realize what just happened. Legolas apparently just sawed his way through a live electrical wire carrying 120 volts of electricity and lived to tell about it. Except right now he's not telling.
"It was just an accident. No harm done," Joe says, switching the Sawsall on and pointing to the place he wants Elfboy to resume cutting. He throws me a sweet and innocent smile that mirrors not only the one on the Prance's face, but Lou's as well.
As I raise my finger and start to say, "I think . . . ," I hear Yes Dear's voice echoing inside my head in a little repeat of the conversation we had before he left for work this morning:
[ Promise me you won't hang over their shoulders.
I promise.
Promise me you won't micromanage.
Alright! I promise! ]
"Nevermind," I mouth, turning to head back to the computer room before I do something I might regret later.
About ten minutes later I hear the Sawsall stop running. Thirty seconds after that, the Prance is standing at the computer room door again. This time he's sopping wet.
"Joe waentz tu noe whur da wader kuet-oeff vaelve iz."
"Water cut-off valve?"
"Yaes."
"It's outside at the meter near the road. Why does Joe need to know wh. . . . ?" That's when the rushing sound of a cascading waterfall reaches my attention.
"Legolas?"
He pauses in his efforts to wring the water out of his braided hair. "Yaes?"
"Why is the water running in the kitchen?"
"Oeh, al! U shuld coem sea da perty foewntin dat we hav en da keetchin! Da wader iz maekin spaerkulz like diamundz en da lite en dere!"
I'm almost elf-like in my speed and grace as I fly out of the chair and into the kitchen. Springing from a hole in the waterpipe that supplies the kitchen sink, I find the most lovely spray of crystal clear water shooting from the floor all the way to the ceiling, all over my brand new upper cabinets, all over the new light fixture, and all over the brand new range hood. The paint is drip, drip, dripping off the ceiling above all over the exposed plywood floor below.
"Doen't u jest lub it?" he whispers, totally in awe as he stands there beside me with his hands clasped together, pressed against his chest.
I can't do anything but stare.
"It duz maek u speachluss," he breathes.
I must be standing with my mouth hanging open, for the Prance reaches out his hand and gently nudges me under the chin and says, "Jest noed ur haed uep an doewn whin I sae it'z jest purfickt." He gives my head a little lift up to get me started.
About ten seconds later the fountain dies down to a spray and then to a trickle before sputtering to a stop. The back door opens and a soggy Joe steps in.
"It'll dry just fine. I promise," he apologizes.
I stop to consider my possible reactions at this stage.
(a) Nuclear fission. Blow a gasket, drop the bomb, have a cow, whatever you want to call it.
(b) Sit in the corner blubbering my lip and rocking back and forth until they strap me into a white jacket and haul me away.
(c) Sink to the floor wailing, moaning, and tearing my clothes asunder.
(d) Stare vacantly at a spot on the ceiling and pretend to be totally comatose, a sudden and complete victim of Alzheimer's disease.
The safest one seems to be (e) Continue to play deaf and dumb and pretend that by the end of the day everything will be better than it was before.
I put on my happiest, most sincere smile and with as much enthusiasm as I can muster, say, "You do ceilings too, right?"
"Yeah," Joe answers with a smile, glad to see I didn't pick (a) through (d) above.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The guys go back to scooping up soggy particleboard. In about a half hour, the noise emanating from my kitchen has died down to nothing. I hear the truck crank up, but before I can close out my computer program, they have pulled out of the driveway and headed up the hill outside.
Wandering through the protective plastic sheeting, I find to my surprise that my destruction-construction crew of three have pulled up the entire floor. I mean THE ENTIRE FLOOR. There's nothing left of my kitchen except the two-by-twelve joists running parallel to each other every foot or so from the back door to the den carpet. You can see dirt between them four feet below.
"Legolas?" I call.
"Yaes?" answers a voice from the deck.
"Where did Lou and Joe go?"
"Tiem fur luench!" he announces. "Dey weant tu Buergur Keeng."
The Prance and I settle for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with sour cream and onion potato chips. I have the grape jelly and Elfboy spreads on the strawberry jam.
"Don't you think that's enough?" I ask, watching the jam slide out of his bread and plop thickly to the paper plate in front of him. It's actually leaking through the bottom of his sandwich in places. It would be an apt name to list it on the menu as "Strawberry Sandwich with Bread and Peanut Butter."
"U kin neber hav enuf straewburry jaem," he mumbles through a mouthful of the sticky stuff.
Indeed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
An hour later, Joe and Lou are back in action, measuring and sawing and measuring again. Joe goes over to the big trailer where he keeps his supplies and pulls out a gas-powered air compressor, hooking it up to something that looks rather like an overpowered stapler. As Joe steps back over to the trailer, I see Legolas reach over and pick the object up.
"NO! NO!" shouts Lou.
Joe makes a quick about-face and rescues the thing from Elfboy's arms. He laughs nervously. "Not this one, buddy. This one's a bit more dangerous than those other tools you've been using."
A bit more dangerous? He's already sawed through a water pipe and almost jolted himself with 120 volts of electricity, not to mention how close the blade of the circular saw came to his pretty face only a few days before.
"Whut'z dat?" Legolas asks, staring awestruck at the big-man's toy.
"This, my friend," says Joe, "is a pneumatic nailgun."
"Dey coem en newmaetikz?" he asks, astonished. He turns to me. "I'm gittin won."
"I don't think so," I scoff. "You're still not too old for your wants to hurt you."
Elfboy pouts.
By six o'clock, they're finishing up. My kitchen now has upper cabinets AND a new plywood floor. Don't look up at the watermark on the ceiling, okay?
"Thanks, Joe," says Yes Dear, cutting the check and handing it over. "The place looks great."
"I'll be back Monday morning to pick up the debris with my other trailer," Joe says. "Bye, Legolas! Thanks for the help!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
First thing on Friday morning, Yes Dear's at the hardware store purchasing electrical wire and plumbing supplies. He's decided to rewire and replumb both whole sections rather than leave patches at floor level. Since the thing that got us into this mess in the first place involved a leak in the plumbing somewhere near the same area, I'm all in favor of putting off having a functioning sink for another day or two to avoid having to do all of this over again.
It takes six hours on Saturday for him to pull the old out and put in the new. The electricity is easy to check . . . just plug in the refrigerator and watch the little light inside glow. The water is another whole story.
But then you guessed I'd say that, didn't you?
He has to turn off the water and cut a hole in the drywall to replace the pipe. We have to go for several hours without being able to wash our hands, ride the washing machine, or flush the toilet. Guess who has the hardest time with that?
When it comes time to test the pipe for leaks, Yes Dear sends Lil' Pip and Legolas to keep an eye on the pipe in the kitchen while he takes me underneath the house so he can show me the new cut-off valve he's put in. We're standing directly underneath them, so we can hear every word they're saying.
"I doent sea enithaeng," says the Prance.
"Don't put your head so close," fusses Lil' Pip. "I can't see through your thick skull."
"Buet nuthin'z haeppinen eniwae," whines the Prance. Then comes the sound of flesh smacking flesh.
"OOEEWW!"
"Daddy said don't touch anything!"
"I deen't tuch it! I wuz jest raestin my haend dere."
"Well, don't do that. You might turn it on by accident or something."
They quiet down for a few seconds, so Yes Dear figures it's a good time to give instructions once again while they can hear him.
"Just watch for leaks, and holler if you see any," he calls up to them.
"Okay, Dad!" yells Lil' Pip.
"Okae!" screams Legolas.
We could have heard them both if we were on Mars.
"Move your dumb head! I can't see!" shouts Lil' Pip.
Shaking his head, Yes Dear reaches over and turns the faucet handle on.
There's the squeak of water filling the new pipe, then nothing. Suddenly there's a loud pop, followed by a bloodcurdling shriek and the rush of cascading water.
Yes Dear quickly turns the valve to stop the flow. We both crawl out from underneath the house at top speed and run to see what damage has been done this time.
When we open the kitchen door, there stands Lil' Pip, drenched in water. Her glasses are askew on her face, and they're covered in water drops. Legolas is lying on the den carpet clutching his belly and convulsing.
"This is ALL HIS FAULT!" screeches Lil' Pip.
Apparently Yes Dear was so tired from the day's activities that he remembered to glue all but the last bend of PVC pipe. The very bend that makes the turn up from the bottom of the house to inside through the wall. The very bend that Lil' Pip apparently had her eye on, watching carefully from only a few inches away. The very bend that Legolas is now holding in his left hand while he holds his jiggling, giggling belly with his right as he writhes on the den floor, laughing at his sopping wet, bossy, substitute little sister.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Okay, so it takes two whole weeks before Yes Dear calls and reminds Joe about the debris pile so he will come to get the moldy stinking mess from under my laundry line, but who's counting? Everybody's busy trying to get their home repairs and improvements done before the Thanksgiving holiday. We've been busy ourselves putting in the new bottom cabinets and installing the stove. The man from Valinor is coming on Tuesday to put in the almost- Elbereth-kissed countertop, and the crew from the flooring store is supposed to be here on Wednesday to install the new linoleum.
That gives me just enough time to stuff everything I've stashed all over my house back into the new cabinets before my mother to get here for a combination late Thanksgiving, late Lil' Pip's birthday, and the big Hanging of the Greens ceremony at church on Sunday.
Tuesday morning, I get a call from Tommy the countertop man. He's going to be a little late, seems he's got to ride into Greenwood to pick up (you fill in the blank).
Fortunately, Tommy comes highly recommended by my friend Terry, who had him install a countertop in her kitchen some time ago. Terry says she even paid him extra as a tip because he was so good. Now Terry is an astute shop-a- holic, and never has one been born as cunning as she. Terry can spot a sale from a mall-length away, and she can quote prices and advertised specials for not only every store here at home, but in Greenwood as well. She's a real pro, and if she paid him extra, you can bet he earned every single penny.
Tommy walks in the door with a contract in hand. In it, I am required to provide for him and his crew bathroom facilities and water supply for drinking as well as washing up. It stipulates exactly how much I have paid for every little sawdust particle floating in my air, and before he even starts, he has his assistant sweeping off my carport. Note that was HIS assistant, not mine.
"Kin I hep?" asks Prance Helpful, hanging a half-inch off Tommy's left elbow.
"My insurance doesn't cover you," Tommy says, stepping to the right to recover his personal space.
Legolas turns on the pathetic lost puppy-dog face. "Kin I jest wach den? I proemiss noet tu git en da wae."
"I'm sorry," says the countertop man firmly. "You'll have to stay in the den. You can watch from there."
"Come on, Legolas," I call from the doorway. "Let's go back in."
"Buet dat's soe faer awae!" whines the Prance. Nevermind that it's only a cabinet's breadth from the den to the kitchen, and he's an immortal who can tell a hawk from a hunting eagle a mountaintop away, and deliver a deadly arrow precisely to a shadow's vital point in the dead darkness of night. Sometimes even three feet is entirely more than an elf can take.
I turn on the television and pop in the tape I made of "Wheel of Fortune" yesterday. I've been hoping against hope that somehow his spelling will improve while he's guessing the letters and trying to figure out the word puzzles, but so far he's spent more time imitating Vanna White's walk and commenting on whatever wardrobe faux pas he thinks she's committed most recently than he does concentrating on solving the problems. Soon he's parked himself three feet from the screen in the middle of the den carpet and has forgotten all about the sawing going on outside the back door.
"Dat kulur duzn't luuk guud oen her. I likd da grean won she woar yaesturdae bedder," he grumbles. "Whie duz she leat doze peepul peek owt her draessiz fur her? She noez whut she'z duein, she noez whut luuks guud."
If Legolas was helping Vanna with her wardrobe, she'd wear green everyday. Maybe the occasional blue, or even a silver sequined number so she'd sparkle like the stars. He's really mesmerized by Vanna. A part of me wonders if it's actually Vanna he wants, or if he'd be just as happy owning everything in her closet.
I manage to keep Prance Helpful occupied, and in less than half the time I expected it would take, Tommy's finished the kitchen and is ready to go. He talks to me about how to care for the countertop, how to clean it and how to polish it, and he makes sure I know not to cut anything on it without using a cutting board. He even gives me a printed handout listing all the approved over-the-counter brands of cleaners I should use.
Legolas spends the rest of the evening stroking it. Yes Dear spends his evening putting in the new sink and hooking up the water. Lil' Pip spends her evening begging for a new smoothie maker for her birthday to put in her favored location.
I spend my evening being thankful for blessings I often forget I even have.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning we're up bright and early, ready for the new linoleum. As I'm straightening up the morning's chaos and Legolas is playing in the water instead of washing the breakfast dishes, I get a phone call. You guessed it. The linoleum man is going to be a little late.
"I'm sending out a guy who'll give you a quote on the price once he sees the site," says the guy who's supposed to already be here. "He'll be bringing the supplies you paid for with him."
"Wait a minute, I thought you were coming? And I already have a price!" I say, not sure if I like last minute subcontracting.
"Whut'z da maettur?" says the Prance, his curiosity piqued at my raised voice. He's dripping soap suds from his elbows onto the den carpet, so I shoo him back to the sink.
"What time is he supposed to be here?"
"He's already left. He's real reasonable. He'll give you a good price."
Two hours later, I call back to the floorcovering store and ask to speak to my salesman. He assures me he knows the installer who's coming, that he's already been to the warehouse and picked up my new linoleum, and says he should be arriving any minute now.
Legolas heads to the bay window up front to keep a watch. Half an hour later, I find him curled up there on the ledge in the sun, nestled between the four cats. His eyes are open and trained on the road, but there's nobody home. Anor has claimed its fifth victim of the day.
Two hours after that, I'm back on the phone to the salesman. "He's not here yet," I complain. "I only live forty-five minutes from the store. Can you check on him, please?" I have visions of my new kitchen floor lying in the back of a van at the bottom of a ravine somewhere between here and there.
The phone rings back less than a minute after I sit it back down on the coffee table. It's the linoleum man. He's on the way.
I breathe a sigh of relief, glancing at the clock as he asks me for directions to the house.
"Where are you coming from?" I ask.
The town he's currently in is forty-five minutes from me, alright. That's forty-five minutes in THE OTHER DIRECTION from where he supposedly started out four hours ago.
"Why are you there and not here? That's not even on the way!" I fuss, concerned now that he's going to charge me a distance fee on the transportation.
"I left my tools in the van. I'm using the pickup truck today," he says.
"Let me get this straight," I say. "My brand new linoleum has been riding around in the back of your pickup truck for four hours now?"
"Yes, Ma'am," he says. "It's nice weather out."
I wonder if he's going to charge me for a sightseeing tour too?
"How long will it take you to get here?"
"Well, I'll stop for lunch on the way, so I figure I should be there in another couple of hours or so."
"You mean to tell me you're not going to get here for another two hours?" Now he's not going to arrive until I'm already supposed to be at work. Matter of fact, I'm technically late now, with as much work as I usually have to do the day before we close for a holiday. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and most people would be expecting the relatives to start showing up on the doorstep by then. The stores will all be closing before he can get here to survey the job to see if he's got all he needs, and they'll be closed for at least one more day tomorrow if he doesn't finish it tonight.
"Yes, ma'am. I don't mind working for as long as it takes."
"Well, I can't wait that long. We'll have to reschedule."
The next day he can come isn't until Dec 11th. Fifteen days from now, and only six days before Legolas is leaving.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lub Ledderz frum Legolas
ariarwen: al deed fiex me uep guud. She tuuk me tu sea Joyce at da Beeutie Paerlur, an noew u kin't eben tael whut haeppind tu my hare! I lub tu goe sea Joyce. She haz meeny enturaesteeng theengz en her shoep. Deed u sea me treep whin I wuz ruenning akros da hilltoep aftur da Uruks dat haed taekin Merry an Pippin en TTT? Dat wuz jest my wae of sayen tu al dat I wuz okae. Goe bak an luuk fur it. It'z rite beafoar Araporn akz me whut due my eyez sea. *huegz u*
Jastaelf: GAH! You had to go and say that while he had a plate full of Strawberry Sandwich with Bread and Peanut Butter, didn't you??! Now look at this mess! *wipes Prance clean while he tries to pull himself back together* *snatches paper plate as he takes Dive #2* I'm still working on the pic you requested about the washing machine ride. I'll add the Carpenter's Apprentice to your request list. One day. . . . Hey! Trade you a pic for a new chapter of Dark Leaf! Hmmm??? *draegz sef entu chare* Hae! She'z noet my muthur. She'z my ruummaet! *gitz ober da hueffie staege an doez Ada's relakzashun eggsesieziz* I waent Ada tu noe I wuz a tuff worrier an deed noet krie, noe madder whut Leedle Peep sez. *foeldz haendz ober chaest an glaerz at Leedle Peep* *glansiz doewn at haendz an seaz da gloeb of jaem en my hare* Oeh, noew luuk whut u'v dun! *rueshiz oeff tu da bafruum tu fiex dis turribel maess u hav maed en my hare*
Max Jive: Oh, God. I don't even want to THINK of having a pirate-wanna-be living in my closet. Or my spare bedroom, for that matter. Just imagine all the trouble he could get in. . . .*shudders* U doen't like my Caerpinturz luuk? *tuernz arond tu giv u a chaense fur it tu groew oen u* Whut'z roeng wid my Caerpinturz luuk? Eberybuddie ealse theenkz it'z saexy. . . .
Lady Peredhel: If dey doen't groew bak rite, Joyce at da Beeutie Paerlur kin fiex dat! I hoep u ar steel en lub whin u git dis maessege. Lub iz a vary wundurful thaeng. *seandz u a kees an a fiev pownd baeg of suegur tu uze oen dat goerjus hueman guey*
Newmoon: I furgiv u, buet u bedder noet due it agin! I STEEL LUB U TUU! al sez dat maeybee won daey she weel git bizy an draew a pikshur of me az a Caerpintur. She'z waetin oen Jasta, u sea. *seandz u a beeg skweeaze*
daw the minstrel: al'z noet teezin! I reely deed cuet my hare wid da saewblaed! She's not talking about that, nin caun. She's discussing another matter entirely. *luukz toetully loest* She's talking about how nice you looked in your Carpenter's Apprentice outfit, baby. *greenz gleafuelly* Oeh, dat! *blueshiz*
Chan: I hav Caerpintur'z Braydz noew, Chan! Sea? *tuernz soe u kin sea* I lub wurkin wid tuulz. I lernd tu wurk oen kaerz wile I wuz hear tuu. I jest dunnoe if I weel bea abul tu tuern all dis enfoermashun entu enithaeng proeduktiv whin I git bak hoem or noet. *healpz u bak uep an gievz u a beeg hueg wile u puell ursef tugethur*
caranwen: Ur goenna maek me krie if u keap dis uep! Noe moer saed ledderz, okae? Tho I deed theenk it wuz vary beeuteeful. I wuld lub it if u keap riting me, buet doen't bea soe saed, okae? *huegz u*
Raider-K: It wuz a naestee saew uenteel Yaes Deer goet all da hare ouwta it. I oenlee deed dat thaeng wid my boexurz dat won tiem. U hav da meamoeree of da dwaervz, hannon le vary muech. An I oenlee deed it den beakuz al deedn't tael me hoew tu due it rite, an dey wear soe pertie! Jest like u *greanz an smuuchiz u*
Writer From Rivendell: *gievz u a grate beeg hueg* I em noet reatuerneeng dis tiem. Dere iz jest noe wae fur dat tu haeppin. *haendz u a neadulnoez plyer an a teany leedle skruwdrievur* Hear, trie dis. . . .
Nilmandra: Dis duemb theeng seamz tu due dat aloet. al haz ur stoerriez oen her liest of theengz tu reed tu hep her wonse I em goen. She theenkz ur stoerriez weel maek her feal bedder, an I due tu. U woen't git en da elfleeng wae if I jest kees u, rite?? *pukurz uep*
Grammar Laedee: Buet I LUB da Tucheeng Me Gaem! I waent tu teech it tu Gimli. He alreedy soert of noez hoew tu plae. He'z alwaez rayzeeng heez voywse an kumplayneeng abot sumpthaeng lowd enuf fur eberybuddie tu here heem. I theenk al wuld giv me da wite keetie. Noet Preensis Elizabef, buet dat othur wite won dat cheuwd thru da neuw wader liem uendur da seenk wile Yeas Deer wuz uender dere enstaelleeng it. *seandz u sum elbin lub*
Holly :o) : U muest hav reely loeng hare den! Due u uze Paenteen? I lub Paenteen! *shaekz loeng bloend lokz en an ematashun of da Paenteen gurl oen tee vea* I'll bea wachin fur u! *snuegglz u*
Landos Star: Buet it wuz my HARE!!! MY HARE!! *wheempurz* I deedn't krie, tho. I wuz a vary braeve worrier. I proemis tu e-male u sum pikshurz of my elfleengz, buet u weel hav tu wate unteel e-male iz envintid en Meedle-erth furst. Dat culd bea a vary loeng tiem indeead. Oeh, an bie da wae, al sez it'z her JOEB noet tu leat me get nekkie. *geegglz an proseedz tu maek al ern her paecheak*
SarWolf Snape: I weant tu sea Joyce at da Beeutee Paerlur, an she feexed me rite uep! Due u like it? *doez da Paenteen gurl thaeng frum da tee vea agin, den gievz u a beeg hueg*
Space-Case 7029: al iz haerd tu teeze. U goetta wach dat Yaes Deer duzn't fiend ouwt abot it. He mite huert me. al sez tu tael u dat she deedn't haev eni saenatee tu beagin wid, soe u doen't haev tu wurry abot her. *Kueddlz u uep en my aermz*
The Karenator: *hepz u puet ur feat uep, ruebz ur toez* Duz dat maek it all bedder? I hoep u ar fealin stroengur eberydae. U shuld sea all da thaengz I kin due wid a haemmur dat al DEEDN'T tael u abot! Gimli iz shur goenna bea suerprized! *gievz u a kaerful skweeaze an a beeg kees*
The Two Princesses: Buet I like theengz dat maek lowd annoeyeeng noiwze! Dere's POEWUER en dat sownd! If Sauron haed maed heez Reeng a leedle lowdur, Bilbo wuld hav neber goet it en da furst plaese! Muthurz ar sueppozed tu bea embareassing. Dat'z hoew dey git ober all doze nitez dat dey muest stae awaek razing cheeldrin. I hav a kwestshun fur u. . . whut ez ur faevurit kulur? *seandz u sum XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXXOXO's*
Fadesintothewest: I hoep u ar steel dueing bedder. If dey eber maek a moovie abot Bilbo, maebee I weel bea abul tu coem bak. Unteel den, I muest reatuern tu Meedle-erth. Araporn weel need a skeeld worrier like me. U neber noe whin a guud skruwdrievur weel coem en haendee. *huegglz u*
Lady Silence: MMmm. . . . Peaz. *foergievz u eenstuntlee, thin priez u oeff wunse I kin't breeth enimoer frum ur gloem* Mmmm. . . .noew I thaenk I've haed tuu muech suegur tuu. Iz dis faest enuf fur u wid da chaeptur poesteeng?
Michelle6: Deed u git all moevd en? I hoep soe. Giev Matt a kees fur me tuu. *gievz u tuu keesiz soe u weel hav eggstra*
SperryDee: Mebbe won dae al weel draew a pikshur of me en my Caerpintur'z Appreantise ouwtfeet.*Heetchiz uep jeenz ober "Maerrie Chreestmis" boexurz agin* Owr katz due dat tu. Yaes Deer wierz da trea tu da waell en thraee plaesiz. Dat hepz. *seandz u sum elbin lub, baybee*
Dunrosiel: U nead a vakashun. Mebbe Chreestmus iz coemin tuu laet fur u. Haeng en dere, a brake iz coemin, I noe. I'll aesk Saentu Klauwz whin I sea heem tu seand u dat fur Chreestmus. *Huegz u kaerfuelly en kaes it'z cuntageeus*
VladimirsAngel: *strykez a poze fur u* Iz dis guud? Hoew abot dis won? *duz anuthr* It'z da Paenteen cundishuner dat maekz ur hare shyne like dis. I'm steel feegureng ouwt hoew tu git sum of dat bak tu Meedle-erth. *huegz an keesiz tu u*
Tricia: Hannon le fur ur greef fur my hare loess. It wuz kwite paynful, buet noe maettur whut Leedle Peep sez I DEED NOET KRIE! *daerz Leedle Peep tu sae enithaeng* *skweeazez u*
elf from Rivendell: Mae Govannen! Hearz anuthr kees, sinse u liked dat won soe waell. *bloewz u a beeg sloeepie waet won* Sae hae tu eberybuddie fur me. Namarie!
anna: *blueshiz* Ur eambareassing me! Eben my eerz ar raed! *kovurz eerz wid my haendz* Yaes, dat al iz smaert az puempkin pie, she jest maerched me doewn tu Joyce at da Beeutee Paerlur an goet me all feexd uep! *gievz u a snueggul*
leail: Dat chaeptur wuz abot caebinetz an leenoleeum an . . . wate a minit! Dat'z noet whut u mint, iz it?? Kloze ur eyez, Cara7 an Andy8 *groewlz an gievz u da burfdae kees u reely deasurve*
Katani Petitedra: I doen't theenk u hav enithaeng moer tu woerrie abot. Dose lineeur ekwashunz doen't hoeld a kaendul tu u. U luuk nise like dat, bie da wae. . . . *geeglz*
Arienna DyBane: *wied oepin eyez fur ur kees an hueg suerprizd me!* I gess whin u've bean duein ur oewn hare fur aelmoest threa thowsend yeerz, u goetta git guud at it sumtiem. Giv ursef a feuw moer yeerz, nin mellon. *huegz u bak*
Miss Aranel: Yaes Deer sumtiemz caellz me "Tim" beakuz of dat "Home Improvement" shoew. He duzn't luuk enithaeng like Al on dere, jest like I doen't luuk enithaeng like Tim. It haez bean kwite an aedvenshur. U noe, if peepul wuld jest waesh dere haendz az muech az elves due, dey wuldn't git sieck neer az oeftin. *huegz u titely*
PuterPatty: Dat al iz suech a shieneeng staer, izn't she?? *pawzes wile eberybuddie noedz dere haedz* al waentz tu noe if u wear taelkin abot my hare whin u meanshund emagineeng theengz dat aern't reely haepenning. I thot u likd my tite jeenz? al sez she remimburz doze kiend of thaengz spasificully tu tael jest fur u. *u taest like da cheasekaek u haed fur luench at dat plase u like tu eet at, deed u noe dat meleth?*
Leedle Peep: I herd whut haeppind en da gurlz kaebin. I theenk I wuld hav prefurrd da boeyz. Eggspashully wid "Da Waerdin" patroelling da haellz all nite. Reemiendz me of Maestur Tanglinna bak hoem en Mirkwood. Dear Darling Daughter, I love to talk to you in the reviews. Now get off the computer and go clean your room. *geegulz* Hush, elfboy, you're not making things any better. Get off your duff and go help her. You made the mess with the Barbie's while she was gone anyway. *suelkz off powteeng*
Lord Elrond's Baliff: Soe glaed tu sea u! al sez thaenk u fur da beast weeshiz, an I thaenk u fur keapin doze skaerrie faengurlz awae. I nead ALL my hare, u noe? I wuz jest wundureeng abot da suppeena. . . deed u furgit tu breeng won fur al? Aftur all, she meatz 18 of da 19 kritearia fur beeing a Maerrie Suew. She shuld git sum tipe of awaerd, doen't u agrea? *biedz u faerweal uentil nekzt tiem*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That's it for today. Keep checking daily! Send those lub ledders quick, cause soon there won't be any more time!