Chain Reaction

One day last week I was just 'having a day' and nothing I did seemed to be going quite right.
My tiny crochet hook and thread were simply not cooperating with me.  I tried to crochet the tiniest circle on the planet one hundred and fifteen times and each time it looked worse than before.
A very important email was apparently being ignored by it's recipient for my inbox never dinged it's happy little ding! at me.
There was a mountain of dishes to do and I simply did not feel like doing them. 
So I did what any frustrated girl would do and decided that it was time to go sit in a hot bubbled bath and spend some quality, relaxing time with Edith Wharton and her view of nineteenth-century New York society.

The next thing I knew there was a frantic buzzing at my front door.  Not exactly what you want in the middle of a bubble bath.  Luckily boyfriend was now home from work and after a few desperate squeaks from me he finally came ambling into the hall, shut the bathroom door, and addressed the anxious buzzer on the other side of our front door.

From my soapy spot all I could hear were snippets of conversation:
...yes...leaking...underneath...felt the ceiling...warm...sagging...
...oh...oh no...bath...gosh...sorry........drain....SLOWLY....plumber...tomorrow...
...ripping out wall...or tub...
Great.  That is exactly the last thing I needed tacked on to the end of my frustrating day: I take a bath and my tub is apparently about to drop through the floor and into the new neighbor's bathroom below.  
Great.  Just great.

As we got in bed that night, boyfriend said, 'Well, I was going to drive to work tomorrow instead of taking the bus...but now I can't remember why.  I had a reason...huhOh well, I'll drive, maybe I'll remember why when I get to work.'  
Fine by me.  It was going to be another day of getting to know my 1.5mm crochet hook at home anyway.

The next morning I awoke to an email from our apartment manager informing me a plumber would be by between the hours of 12 and 2 that afternoon.  And that any furniture in our hallway may have to be moved if the plumber feels he needs to rip out part of our wall in order to access our tub.  
I've never introduced any of you to our hallway because it is darker than a cave and the light in there is hideous, but our hallway is where all my business lives.  Yarn business, craft fair booth business, really heavy Ikea bookshelf business to house it all.  Lots of business. 
Lots of business I couldn't move by myself.

Cue frantic emails to boyfriend.  Cue frantic responses from boyfriend.  Cue boyfriend saying, 'Oh...well...I drove today and I still don't know what my reasoning was but that means I can drive home at lunch and help you move furniture!'  
 Most. Excellent.

The next thing I know I'm whipping up sandwiches, heating slices of pie, setting the table, pouring glasses of iced tea, and generally getting really in to the whole idea of having an at home lunch date.  I start hefting armloads of yarn off my shelves and plonking them on the couch.  Boyfriend gets home and surveys the situation.  Decides some food is necessary before manual labor.  We sit down at our little kitchen table and happily start munching away on our lunch.  The windows are cracked, the sun is shining, big puffy clouds are moving by quickly, threatening rain at any moment...and we hear a buzzing.  This time not the buzzing of our front door, but a different kind of buzzing...

And sitting directly out our window, in our big, beautiful, bird-filled cedar tree, we both simultaneously spotted a hummingbird.  But not just any hummingbird...

A baby hummingbird.

A hungry baby hummingbird.

 
Needless to say, we both had full freak outs, threw down our napkins, tested out how much we could move around our kitchen without scaring the little guy and his proud mama (they so didn't care about the two big gangly things in the window), and broke out the camera equipment.

 Boyfriend set up his big fancy camera complete with big lens and tripod, smack dab in the middle of our tiny kitchen.

We (he) slid my giant shelves out of the hallway and into the middle of the living room.
Checked to see if mama hummingbird had shown up for a feeding yet.
And then it was time for boyfriend to go back to work and for me to start snapping photographs.

I don't quite know what started this chain of events.
But sometimes, just sometimes, if you open your eyes and look past the bad, frustrating, tear-your-hair-out days where nothing goes as planned, your bathtub is about to fall through the floor, and you have to move furniture...

Well, you might just end up with something amazing.

6 comments:

  1. eep! Best crazy off-beat things-go-wrong only-to-go-right stories!! Loved the part when your boyfriend just knew he had to drive to work; divine providence at its best! ;)
    Baby hummingbirds trump imminent plumber excavations any day!!

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  2. Oh my goodness! Cute overload! Such great photos.

    xo,

    Sarah

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  3. You'll be happy to know those are Anna's Hummingbirds!! It was meant to be.

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  4. It WAS meant to be, Barb! And I'm glad you confirmed they are in fact Anna's hummingbirds-that's what we thought too, but it was hard to tell until we took pictures of them. :)

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  5. Such a fantastic blog post. Thank you for that. The photos amaze me. I still have no idea what I'm doing with my Nikon that I've had for over a year.

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  6. Thanks Charlene, so glad you enjoyed my ramble! I pretty much leave my camera on auto all the time, so it was nice to have boyfriend set up his fancy camera so I could snap some photos. I should probably figure out how to do it on my own. :)

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Hi friends! Thank you for lingering in my Victory Garden, I hope you enjoyed yourself while you were here!

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