Skip to main content

A Bad Dream (And a stressful reality)


 Last night the stress manifested as a dream.


When you live in the country you learn to depend on the sound.

Note: Probably no more than anyone else, but we country folks use statements like this to pretend we have mythical powers of observation.

We get used to the regular sounds of the furnace, the refrigerator, and the septic pump, and know when things are not working they should.

I hadn't heard the septic pump cut in for a long time and on Monday morning I went outside and checked the tank.

Full.

Crap!

Literally.


I called the plumber, but he wasn't able to come immediately. I pumped out some of the liquid to give us enough room for basic septic deposits, and waited.

And waited.

And texted.

"I will be there first thing in the morning."

"We will survive."

 

No later than 8 AM is "first thing in the morning" for me.

11:24 for plumbers I guess

Hey, I was happy to have him.

I couldn't maintain any kind of decent sleep Monday night. The stress kept me waking up every hour. It also kept my stomach churning all morning, and into the afternoon, until the plumber informed me that my problem was solved and expect a bill.

"Thank you Sir."

 

Except.

I waited. I showered. I did laundry. My gut rolled and rolled. My septic pump did not cut in. I went to bed. No pump.

"It should have cut in by now."

It didn't

Finally, my exhausted brain allowed me to fall into a worried sleep.

And then, the dream.

 

I was puppy sitting a friends little ball of fluff. For some reason I took the puppy into a barn. I turned my head for just a second and the puppy disappeared.

"Puppy" I yelled.

A dozen puppies came out from under the straw. A dozen but not the pup I was looking for.

"Puppy!"

A dozen kittens came out of the straw.

"Not you."

"Puppy, where are you?" 

A dozen huskies came out from under the straw. My charge was gone. Long gone.

And I woke up in a cold sweat and panic.

"I lost the puppy. What will I tell them."


Of course then I realized it was just a dream.

"Whew!"

Then I remembered the pump.

"Crap!"


The pump, to my relief, cut in this morning.

The new float switch must be set different than the old one, and doesn't cut in as often.

My heart is still flipping from the stress of the last 48 hours, but at least I know the septic pump is doing it's job. 

And I will create an end to my dream.

Santa brought the puppy back to me before my friends came to pick it up.

"Thanks Santa. See you Christmas Eve!" 

 

The End

 


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

DRIVING SASKATCHEWANDERERER STYLE (Episode 2)

  Continued from Dec 1, 2023 And it begins at number...   7 - Your wife's new car talks. The two of them are not ganging up on you. It only seems that way.    8 - Check the oil once in a while. If you can't see any on the dipstick you should add more than one liter.   If your dipstick is a dark colour, and you can feel oil on it but you can't see any, you should seriously consider an oil change. 9 - Burnouts are for dummies. What do you think that black tire smoke is doing to your lungs. Besides, have you seen the price of tires lately? If not you are probably due. Due for a shock. 10 - AMC Ramblers were a paradox. A car absolutely designed for hot, fumbling, teenage sex, that probably remained a virgin for as long as the owner did. (Through college.) 11 - Remember. I am the slowest thing on the highway, driving 10 km over the posted speed limit. I will always encourage you to pass, and even help by slowing down to let you pass quicker. There is a simple reason...
Post a Comment
Read more

SUNDAY MORNING DEEP FREEZE CONTINUES

Coffee warms the soul and kick-starts the heart. The Yorkie, arrogant little turd that she is, never asks to come up on the couch. She will always invite herself, and then give me the look like I am the intruder. This morning she asked, coming to a perfect sit in front of me. Piercing my heart with those eyes that turn me into a puddle of gooey emotions. "Come up", I tapped the seat beside me. She has been cuddled up, covered by the blanket that is kept for such occasions. We sat together, the light from the kitchen drifting lazily into the living room. The salt lamp surrounds us in a candle-like glow. No phone. No TV. No screens. Just half an hour of man and dog fighting the cold, enjoying the mutual company and warmth. "The furnace is working hard this morning, Bud." I believe I heard a snore in reply. It's another sub-zero day in Redneck Flats Saskatchewan. I hope you are able to stay warm and safe, no matter where you may be.
Post a Comment
Read more

THE KIDNEY STONE STORY (A Sermon From The Deck Special Edition)

  It was a dark and stormy night.... It was of course dark, as night seems to be around these parts. It wasn't stormy, but being January in Saskatchewan it was bloody cold. I remember going to the bathroom before bed, and noticing that my urine was darker than normal. "I need to drink more water." At three AM I was awoken by the worst pain in my life, combined with an urge to pee. I stumbled to the bathroom, but no pee was forthcoming, as the waves of pain washed over my body. I remember grabbing on to the sink, fighting the urge to black out from the pain, telling myself, over and over, "if you black out you will die. If you black out you will die.." And then common sense. "Honey, I may be dying. I need some help." She got me back to bed, assured me I was still among the living, and phoned the hospital. The nurse on duty knew what it was, prescribed Advil and said come in at 6AM. ("Take two Asprin and call me in the morning.") Let me explain...
Post a Comment
Read more