Because, in my life, no day would be a real day without a water emergency, the gods decided that yesterday would be a great day for the pipes at the well head to freeze. So the plumber and I sacrificed my hair dryer to muddy necessity, and its little hot motor whirred away in a sloppy pit until after dark, when I decided to take the risk of trying to prime our well pump.

According to past experience, priming the well pump has always involved the complaining sounds of frustrated men and a large amount of spilled water in the basement. I knew that there weren't that many things involved in priming a pump: a hole, clean water to pour into the hole, the pump switch on the breaker board. Yet somehow the interacting variables of these three simple elements made people prone to yelling and despair. Even the plumber refused to undertake the task. Still, I had nothing better to do other than wish I had running water, so I called my friend Norris and asked for over-the-phone instructions. And they worked. I primed the pump all by myself! Without yelling! And with minimal water spillage!

Look at me: a woman who can prime the pump that scared the plumber away. I wonder what amazing thing will happen today.