Oh, my. That was an ugly loss to Florida, 7-19.

It was so ugly that immediately after the game Lyman started on the plumbing leak in the kitchen. After a light battering detaching the faucet handle with the specialized wrench he bought for the job, he found that he can't detach a ring from the part he wants to replace. He needs a new ring, which comes from a plumbing warehouse that isn't open until Monday.

So, because the LSU Tigers lost, we have no hot water in the kitchen for the rest of the weekend. Tell me why.

The rain has put a kibosh on my window-washing project, which had slowed down because of another quandary.

In our bedrooms we have mini-blinds. Plain, cheap, plastic mini-blinds. Horror of horrors. No window treatments?

They stay closed. And I have been remiss in washing windows for about two years now. The blinds are dusty and dirty, and washing them will be a chore and a half. I do not have a clothesline.

Friends say, "Janis, they're cheap. Replace them. It's not worth your effort."

The conservationist inside me says, "Janis, these work perfectly, they're just dirty. You're going to put something in a landfill because it's soiled?"

I've cleaned blinds on the driveway before. Guess I'll do it again.

Jim has asked for an update on plumbing.

This project goes back some months, when we decided to replace the lavatory faucet after the strainer assembly broke off the old one, original to the house in 1962.

We found an attractive one, and hired a fellow who supplements his work at one of the offshore rigs with plumbing handiwork to install it. He did a perfectly good job to a point -- the point at which we found out this faucet was configured for newer sinks, so the stopper stick that goes through the top of the faucet was not lined up with the opening on the lower side of the sink. For some months, we have operated the stopper mechanism by opening the vanity door and closing and opening the drain at the joint underneath the sink.

Lyman (did I tell you he hates plumbing?) decided last week to remedy that situation and replace the stopper mechanism as well. The obvious solution to the blockage was to enlarge the opening under the sink, which called for two trips to the hardware store -- first, for a masonry bit that didn't work, then a cobalt bit that did. That part of the job was fine.

Then he started with the drain and stopper mechanism itself. And that went along fine until he discovered the trap he had purchased for the job was too large. He found that out just as all local hardware stores closed.

One of the things we discovered during removal of the old parts was a nasty clog that had slowed drainage to a trickle. We had bought a little snake a few days before that might have taken care of that, but had we used it, we would have probably punched out the bottom of the rusted 40-year-old trap and turned up with a mess of soggy tampons, toilet tissue and slippery soaps. Just as well.

The next day, he found the parts he needed and finished the job. And found a leak. He tracked the leak to the top of the drain, but rather than disassemble the whole mess, found that the leak stopped when he tightened all his work.

So much for the lavatory.

Then it was on to the toilet, which has been gloog-gloogling for a long time. It was getting on our nerves, despite our sincere attempts to convince ourselves it was a water feature in the house. He replaced part of the flush mechanism and adjusted it and all seemed fine until last night when I found a puddle of water on the floor. A little more tightening, and all seems well. For now.

Then there was the replacement of the flush mechanism in the front bathroom, because the one he had installed last time was designed for the other Gore's toilet, and wasn't doing an adequate job. After adjustments, it's fine, too.

Now it's on to the kitchen sink where one of our expensive Kohler faucets is leaking from the hot water handle, reducing pressure and causing mineral buildup in the sink. That's a warranty issue in addition to a plumbing issue.

The bathroom sinks are beginning to pose a problem. They are cracking and rusting near the drains. They are of the beige 1962 vintage. My mother-in-law says she wishes she had installed white fixtures looking back on it. Thanks, Mom.

The tubs, toilets and tile in both bathrooms are still okay, if a little drear (hey, they aren't pink!). We don't have tile to replace the sink surrounds, so it's adding a border or redoing the whole counters. Or possibly resurfacing those sinks. Another time.

Mr. Smith always asks about Lucy.

Lucy is fine as wine, if a little crabby. It has been overcast and rainy the past few days, and she would like a little sunshine, like the rest of us.

While she doesn't talk much, she does vocalize in completely understandable ways. She grunts, growls and fusses with the best of them. She also yawns loudly.

I've tried to take a picture when she is mopey and tired, but just like any other girl who has been told she is beautiful and smart and good countless times, she always brightens for the camera.

We haven't had the air-conditioning on for some days. The whole house feels soggy.

And I sort of miss the gloogling in the toilet. Gave it a little personality.

Matt Welch provides a link to a group blog covering the California recall, CalBlog.

There is a post there now, in which a volunteer for the Schwarzenegger campaign was told she could not vote wearing her political t-shirt. She is up in arms, as are several of her commenters.

If California law is anything like Louisiana law, the poll worker was correct to turn her away. When I worked as a poll-watcher for a candidate last year, I was told that I couldn't wear so much as a button identifying a candidate.

In our recent election, people were turned away for wearing t-shirts supporting a candidate. Laws against electioneering near the polls forbid them.

My guess is she wasn't properly told by the organizer. Or she didn't listen.

Commenter Lori sounds on track there.

It's a rainy, rainy day. I'm going to keep the coffee fresh and go quietly about my business, rejoicing at how rational Louisiana politics are compared to California's.

In the interest of scientific inquiry, Lyman and I stood up a few more eggs yesterday, October 5, to bear out Phil Plait's observation that eggs can be balanced at any time of year, not just the equinoxes.

If you crane your neck just so, you can see them in this picture. (Can't figure out why this is showing up sidewise. Probably because I refuse to cook tonight.)

We have a hot local run-off coming up on Nov. 15 in the sheriff's race. The incumbent has been in office since 1990, and has made a few enemies in his day. The budget for the office is about $9 million. He is challenged by a Louisiana state trooper with no business experience, which is driving Big Daddy, the banker, off the wall.

From the ads in last week's paper, this is an ugly race that is bound to get uglier. I don't plan to miss an issue of the Concordia Sentinel for the next six weeks.

LATER: The challenger is already mentioning vote-buying and using parish vehicles to transport voters.

OCT 7: Clyde Ray says those allegations are unfounded.

Louisiana politics. You have to love this paragraph from the Times-Picayune about the office of insurance commissioner:

We continue to believe that converting this job into an appointed position would insulate the state's top insurance regulator from political pressures. Louisiana's last three elected commissioners have ended up in jail.

Lyman is doing a bit of plumbing. Three trips to the hardware store this afternoon. More to come. Lyman hates plumbing, and says so in so many words. So many words.

It's warm and beautiful outside. We're picking up some light breezes and cool nights. The air-conditioning is turned off and the windows are open.

It's window-washing time! It came clear to us the other day when Maurice and Ed stopped by, looked at the door onto the carport and said, "Hey, I see you're all dressed for Halloween."

We've started with the spy windows -- you know, the kitchen window overlooking our front neighbors' yards and the side window overlooking Shannon's yard next door, and of course, the kitchen door to the carport.

I'll work through the house, doing the full job on the bedrooms as I do those windows.

Fall cleaning. It's a good thing.

Mark Peterman is one of the Christmas boys at our house -- part of the crowd that gathers here after Christmas dinner at home. He is a smart, responsible and charming young man. His father died yesterday.

Here's an interesting election story. There are no fifteen-passenger vans left to rent in the state for election day.

We have an election coming up on Oct. 4. There are 18 candidates in the primary for governor. I'm wavering between Boudreaux Estilette and "Live Wire" Landry.

The suspect has turned himself in.

Here is a follow-up to the Baton Rouge intruder case. The suspect is to turn himself in within the week.

Here is a soup recipe worth posting:

OYSTER AND ARTICHOKE SOUP

2 cans artichokes (not marinated), drained and coarsely chopped

8 tablespoons butter

1/2 cup finely minced onion

1 cup finely minced celery

2-3/4 cups chicken stock

Salt to taste

1/2 teaspoon each white, cayenne, and black pepper (may add more to taste)

2 cups heavy cream

1/2 gallon oysters, drained

LIGHT ROUX

1/3 cup butter

1/3 cup all-purpose flour

Melt 8 tablespoons butter in a large saucepan. Add onions and celery. Cook until tender but not browned. Add artichoke pieces and cook, stirring, until well mixed and hot.

Stir in stock, salt and peppers, and bring to a boil. Lower heat and simmer 15 minutes

Meanwhile, melt 1/3 butter in small saucepan. Add flour and cook, stirring continuously, until roux is smooth and golden.

Add the roux to the simmering soup and simmer for 5 minutes longer.

Add oysters and simmer until the edges of the oysters just curl. Don't overcook!

Remove from heat and gradually stir in the cream. Serve immediately.

This is a favorite recipe at our house. Served with hot french or Italian bread and a salad, it makes a meal. We usually halve the recipe, to serve three generously. A few dashes of Tabasco can be added to make a spicier dish, or Tabasco can be served on the side.

It's cool outside today, 72 degrees at 4 pm. Lyman and I are going to try a vegetable soup recipe from our copy of Louisiana Cookin' magazine.

Lyman and I have different approaches to new recipes. I prefer to stick strictly to the recipe the first time around, just to see what we're working with. Lyman tweaks from his first reading. Gentle arguments and sometime recriminations ensue.

If the recipe is as good as it's touted to be, I'll post it later.

LATER: As I told LittleA in the comments below, the soup was edible, but not worth posting.

The Jim Bowie Festival is going on this weekend, with a new addition -- a barbecue contest. I like this part:

The first contestant was 9-year-old John Roberts of Vidalia. He presented his ribs on a wooden pig platter.

"How long did you cook them? What temperature did you cook them at?" Gaschen asked Roberts and every contestant Friday night as he examined the ribs under flashlight.

Roberts secret is his "mopping sauce" and said he has been cooking since he can remember, entering the competition because, "I love to cook!" (Emphasis mine.)

That boy has a great future ahead of him.

Idiot kids. Last year there was a serial killer abroad. He has been apprehended. Now the girls are leaving their doors open.

See this story.

All right. I don't want to hear any more, Babs and Arianna. I just bought a Ford Escort wagon, 26-32 mpg. I can't afford a Prius. The municipality owns a hydroelectric dam on the Mississippi and buys power from nuclear plants up or down river when necessary. Two of the bedrooms in this 2,000 square foot house are closed up, and the thermostat is set to regulate the temperature at 76 degrees. So shut up already.

I will lie down for a nap now. I always need a nap when I write a check for more than five hundred dollars.

What happened to the economy in buying "economy-sized"?

Mr. Aardvark described a purchase of peanuts at Target (scroll down to September 23, archives not working) that reminded me of the dozens of times these days that I find that buying a larger size does not mean paying a smaller price per unit.

In his case, he found that two jars of peanuts packaged together cost more than two same-sized jars bought separately.

Just recently, I bought razor blades. Two packs of five were cheaper than one pack of ten.

A few weeks ago, Lyman bought pasta. Two eight-ounce packages were cheaper than one 16 ounce package.

When did that happen and why? Did sellers decide that we were well enough trained to buy larger sizes that we would overlook the price differences?

If you have a clue, please leave a note in the comments.

Indigo provides her Insights into the aftermath of hurricane Isabel in North Carolina. She is home now.

A romantic Wal-mart wedding in Houma doesn't sound auspicious to me, but others think differently:

However, to Lloyd and Mary, the retail chain serves as the backdrop to several milestones in their relationship. The pair became reacquainted after seven years when Lloyd returned a bicycle to Wal-Mart last December. Mary, then working in the toy department, helped him make the return. A couple of months later, Lloyd approached Mary at work to ask her on their first date. In July, Lloyd dropped to one knee in the hardware aisle and asked the Wal-Mart employee to be his wife.

I sound snotty. Actually, the story reads as a great community event.

Lucy's cage came from Daniel Chauvin's workshop at Feathers and Gems in Houma, LA. It's about 45 minutes west of New Orleans.

Recognition of Weevil State University certainly makes those e-mails about mail-order degree programs look silly.

Ah, the autumnal equinox is coming up on the 23rd. Now is the time to warm up your raw eggs and practice standing them up on their fat ends.

Achh, just legend, you say. Not at all. I can count seven people right now to bear witness that at this latitude -- 31.58 N -- you can, indeed, stand an egg up during the equinox. I've done it myself.

Make sure your egg is at room temperature so the yolk can settle naturally, and choose one that has a single yolk. Medium eggs work best. Local jumbos tend to have two yolks, which will cause your project to fail. Pick a level surface on a stable floor. The smallest vibration will cause it to fall. Balance the egg on its fat end with the slightest support of your two thumbs and forefingers. Steady the egg until you can take your fingers away and the egg remains standing.

That last step will take some time. You must make sure not to vibrate the chosen surface with your arms. But with some practice, the egg will stand. Not every egg works, so you might want to warm three or so to practice with.

This isn't a hoax. The first time I saw an egg standing, I thought it was a trick. It's just a question of balance. Why does this happen during the equinox? I don't know.

It will work two or so days on each side of the equinox in both spring and fall, but is easiest closest to the equinox.

Our eggs are warming right now.

LATER: My friend Glenda, the earth science teacher for sixth grade, is going to try this in her classes this week. Do you engineering types have an explanation?

LATER: This scientist has evidence that you can do it at any time. Has nothing to do with the equinox. Never tried that. I can have fun all year!

So, to correct my original post, it IS a legend that you can only stand an egg during an equinox. Experimentation proves that it can be done at ANY time you have the patience for the project. I'm still going to balance some eggs today.

Picture of standing eggs

I balanced these eggs at about 6:45 pm. At 7:19 they are still standing. Note the one on the left balanced on the small end.

J. Bowen has a post on this topic.

I must say, I'm terribly disappointed with this development. First there was Santa, then Prince Charming (sorry Lyman, love ya, but still), now this. I suppose the only mystery left is how to operate this new Garden Composer that came in several days ago.

For the first time this year, I'll watch football today. Game Day is at LSU this year, where we run the risk of having our lunches delivered to us by Georgia.

Our boys have tickets, and whatever happens, we'll be worn out by agitated reports. These kids spend most of their teenage years not talking to you, then turn around later and talk your ears off whenever they walk through the door.

Michael will be coming back to Vidalia after the game for a date with a woman in town tonight. How will I protect Lucy from Michael's language if they lose?

LATER: LSU 17-10 Dodged that bullet

Hurricane blogging:

Kathy Kinsley has links

Tony Hooker has links to the North State Blogs of North Carolina

Mike Trettel is watching for flooding

Jim Smith is out of touch. (Maybe he was called to the shelter to operate the ham radio.)

Meryl Yourish is hosting the Axis of Isabel

Fred First is catching some action

Here's a tasty little joke from Eugene Volokh:

Fish: I had some tasty fish for dinner tonight, here in Boston, and this reminded me of the old joke: A man is on his first visit to Boston, and he wants to try some of that delicious New England seafood that he'd long heard about. So he gets into a cab, and asks the driver, "Can you take me to where I can get scrod?" The driver replies, "I've heard that question a thousand times, but never in the pluperfect subjunctive."

Via Miss Susanna comes this little tale:

Police said: "Apparently, the argument began while the husband was watching football, and the wife was insisting he make hurricane preparations. He refused and said that he'd get to it at half-time.''

A spokeswoman said Harris then grabbed an eight-inch butcher's knife and chased her husband into a bedroom.

Lucy and I play a game. She makes a noise that I try to replicate. She'll run me through a few notes, then go on a trill that I can't possibly imitate. (Mind you, I am no one's singer.) Then she'll laugh at me. Wonder what the girl would have done with Sarah Vaughan?