My jacked-up life

The kids mentioned that their tub felt wobbly. It’s a really cool claw foot tub, probably original from when the house was built in 1926. So I chose to believe that a little wobbling was part of its charm… until I was cleaning and noticed that three of the four claw feet were lying on the floor under the tub, no longer attached. That explained the wobbling in a way that suddenly didn’t seem charming at all.

I saw the slots on the tub that were meant to hold the tops of the feet. I needed to raise the tub enough to get the feet back into their slots. It seemed like a simple enough operation. And it would have been, for two people.

First I thought of calling someone to help. Then I quickly progressed to needing to do it by myself. I was buoyed by my success in filling the peppermill earlier that day, the peppermill that had been mocking me with its emptiness for months. All it took was a flathead screwdriver, a Phillips head screwdriver, a small funnel, a medium funnel, a spoon, flexible spatula and an escargot fork, and voila - fresh-ground pepper! So I wasn’t going to let a little thing like a cast-iron tub intimidate me.

I tried various ridiculous positions in an attempt to lift the tub with my feet while leaving my hands free to deal with the feet. Nothing worked. I swore and glared and banged my head, and none of that worked either.

I was just about to give up when I had an idea. I ran out to my trusty station wagon and a minute later I was jacking up the jacked-up tub. I easily replaced the errant feet, gently lowered the jack, then stood back and admired the work for a good long while.

There are things to be done around here, lots and lots of things. Most of them were not in my job description seven months ago, but they’re all mine now.

I’m done with leaving them undone so I can be angry with S for not being here to do them.