Oz Whiston writing as Oz Drummond (birdhousefrog) wrote,
Oz Whiston writing as Oz Drummond

Farm Update

First of all, I'm very sorry to report that the pies died. They gave their existence for science. A moment of silence for two very good pies, please. But the research must go on.

Second, there are things To Be Known about wells. Who Knew? Not I, city slicker that I am.

Like, if the water shuts off when you're taking a shower, this is not a good thing. Even if it turns back on when you turn the water off and back on. I did this on Friday and thought nothing more of it. The pressure had been acting a bit weird in my opinion and I was told not to worry. So I didn't. I was able to finish my shower. Well, when J took a shower on Sunday and the same thing happened, he had a different reaction. And discovered that the basement was attempting to turn itself into a pond by way of a pinhole leak in a pipe that was spraying water about and had been, probably since Friday. And while he put duct tape around the pipe, the hole was still leaking because it was under pressure. It was just dripping instead of spraying. It's one of those moments when you're glad you're married to an engineer. It's one of those moments when you're glad you have a partner to hand the emergency to. After all, he was feeling human since he had had his shower. I hadn't and wasn't. And don't even mention that I had no clean clothes to wear, laundry having been on my to do list for Sunday.

Emergency shut off. No water. (Had him turn it back on so I could brush my teeth, good grief, there are some limits to roughing it.) J gets on the phone and starts calling plumbers to see who's on call on a Sunday. I hate making phone calls, especially to strangers. Good thing I'm not in charge of this situation.

Meanwhile, I go down and spend some quality time with my junk boxes in the basement that were directly in the path of the water. Three boxes of god-knows-what that were on the 'sort and toss' list in my head. So I sorted and tossed. I felt like I had done something that morning. Three boxes were reduced to one of those plastic storage bags and a small pile of things to dry out upstairs. The place was piled with towels and old bedspreads to soak up the water. My boxes were blocking the path to the drain (note: keep drain path clear in future) so it went elsewhere. We're hoping some more junk boxes soaked up the mess that went towards J's professional books (still in boxes after 4 years).

And by the time the plumbers arrived, I had some sort of clothes on and had my head in a spreadsheet to stay out of the way of all the testosterone. I just write the checks. J talks man-talk to the plumbers and nods sagely and comments on football.

The pipe crumbles in the plumber's hand when he takes it off. Could have been much worse. Our well water tends to eat copper pipes. The previous owners (Chief of Groundwater at the USGS) had a neutralizer installed, but this section is before the neutralizer. Seems this has happened before in this house. The last time was much messier, according to the previous owners.

So eventually, all is done, the strangers leave. And we go back to our original plan of a trek to Ikea to look at some cabinet ideas for a pantry. And I just tie my hair back. But Monday I took a very long, very nice shower. After I did my laundry.

Frog Out
Tags: farm

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