View from the North 40: Water, water everywhere, but not a thought to think

I could be writing about a lot of really interesting things that happened this week, but instead it’s all about the water. Again.

This time, though, I now have it, but apparently don’t know how to use it.

Sure, no one who really knows me expected me to go into a frenzy of cleaning after regaining running water in the house, even if it was a four-month dry spell. You would think I could transition back to using it at least out of habit, though. I mean, I wasn’t raised by wolves or raccoons or squirrels or hillbillies. I’ve had the luxury of indoor plumbing my entire life — or rather, my entire life minus the last four months.

It’s been a week, now, but I still can’t seem to figure out a life that includes running water indoors.

I could be using my brain to write an entire column about White House Press Secretary Sean Spicer literally hiding from the press in a row of bushes, in an infantile attempt to avoid talking about President Trump firing FBI Director Comey.

Surely the image of a grown man lurking among the White House shrubs with his feet showing through at ground level and the top of his head showing above — like a baby who thinks if you’ve covered your face you’ve disappeared — warrants a few words. As would his negotiations with the press that if they turned off all their cameras until he dragged his dignity out of the wood works he would grant an interview.

That’s good stuff.

But nope, I don’t have time. I’m still walking to the shop for a shower because I haven’t hauled all the toiletries back to the house. It just hasn’t occurred to me during non-showering times that I don’t need to hike a city block to get to a shower.

I could be writing about Hillary Clinton’s recent choice to break her media silence about the election results. But there’s a toothbrushing distraction.

Two days ago my husband asked me if one of the new toothbrushes was his and then disappeared after I said yes. I was cleaning my hands — with a baby wipe — when I heard him brushing his teeth in the bathroom sink. I hadn’t heard that sound for four months. It hadn’t even occurred to me that I could start brushing my teeth in the house again until that moment.

It was also that moment I realized I could be washing my hands in actual warm running water at the kitchen sink.

So, no, I don’t have it in me to fire snarky comments about Clinton’s inability to accept responsibility for her own loser-ness, when clearly I’m struggling simply to reach her level of competency.

Plus, I would write several hundred words about Trump, the consummate businessman and self-professed all-powerful negotiator, failing at government and negotiations. He apparently didn’t understanding that when you up and fire the guy responsible for investigating your possibly illegal involvement with Russia the day before the Russians come to the White House, you should be totally above board and invite the press in to witness the event for the public.

Instead, he negotiated with the Russians to allow only official government photographers in, failing to understand that Russian government owns the Russian newspapers so the story and photos were printed in Russia, whilst the U.S. news media was left with nothing.

That’s the short version. The long version, with funny commentary can’t get brain-time in my head.

I was using my brain to figure out a way to get some dishes washed, pasta strained and lettuce rinsed with the least amount of water wastage, and struggled with the water puzzle for considerably longer than necessary — before remembering, yes, all the water I could want would come pouring out of that kitchen faucet because. I. Have. Running. Water.

Seriously, how hard is that to understand?

(Pretty hard, I guess at [email protected].)