Twenty four hours ago I was a whiney bitch, a petulant little boy who wasn’t getting everything exactly the way he wanted it. I was feeling put on and put out. Today I wasn’t all that much better, but an email, a visit from the plumber and a trip to see Megan at the Jathar Salon turned me around.

The “I hope you feel better” email was filled with love and elevated my Zeppelin from a deflated state, face down on the mat. It reminded me of the love that blankets me from life’s occasional bitter chill. The doorbell forced me to turn the Zep 180 degrees (not so easy in a living room) and welcome Shawn the Plumber. Water, while essential, can destroy a home if left dripping long enough, and my 80 year old Craftsman bungalow was sort of in a Stooges, “Water? Turn on anything, you’ll get it” phase. A minor faucet rebuild in my evil lair fixed a hot water leak there, but the real fun was still to come a floor below… Megan’s shower had been leaking into the basement since, oh, when the Sox won the World Series. I’m thinking 2004 or 2007, not 1918, although the house has stood almost since then (1930). [An 80th birthday party may be in order.] Anyway, Shawn was good and he could see with a small chrome flashlight that the water was dripping back from the faucet-head because it wasn’t “pitched” correctly. “Pitch” and water is a theme here lately. On Tuesday, a roofer will arrive to install $3,100 worth of roll roofing on a shallow pitched area of my roof that never should have been shingled, but I digress. Once the fridge was rolled back and a hole cut into the wall behind it, Shawn replaced the problematic pitch pipe along with some other parts and leak be gone! Still, parting with $775 proved painful for plumbing. Yeah, yeah, enough with the palliteration…

An hour later I was under wraps at Jathar while Megan sliced white hairs with shears and childishness with wisdom. [At this point, we’re going to a Luv’s diaper commercial. They are so much more pleasant than the actual experience…] It was a good cut on both fronts. It is extremely rewarding to see my girl so happy. She’s thriving professionally and as a mother, and growing as a woman. I’m so proud of her; I just wish she’s drive slower…

Teeming with a new ‘tude, Kyle and I headed home and engaged in our typical banter. Driving down Main Street in Waltham, I spotted a Cigar Store Indian. “Dude, cigars! You want one?” Kyle looked at me with a filthy, disgusting look and then uttered one of his funniest lined ever, ” “I’ll never turn out like you! Ever.” Screw it. I got two and I’m smoking the Montecristo right now. With smooching off the menu tonight, a cigar is a perfect pairing with Maker’s on ice.

So here I sit under a huge oak while birds whistle their last pre-slumber songs. Wonderpets sing Maddy to sleep in the living room. From my lair above, I hear Kyle laughing. My old house may be leaking, but it’s full of love. Megan just called, deliriously happy and on her way to see Lady Gaga with one of her graduation presents. It’s a privilege to be able to help make dreams come true…

Speaking of dreams come true, right now in a very happy hollow, Joyce is “futzing.” That’s her word for filling her Cape home with loving touches. Her boys in red sox are on in the background. A couple girlfriends are close and she’ll laugh with them this weekend. Her son will join her soon. I miss her, but knowing how good she feels right now is all I need.

Now Maddy needs me to cover her with a loving “blankie.” Life is beautiful.