Just a few nights ago my husband made some remark about being bored with the winter weekends and how he was so anxious to get going with spring projects and gardening and cleaning up the yard….
So perhaps, I should blame this on him.
Saturday night, as I was finally getting my long-overdue shower–hair lathered, soapy body parts–the water pressure started to change and get lighter and lighter…
With this house's past history, I quickly got most of my hair rinsed before that trickle came to a complete stop.
I managed to use a freezing cold glass of water to rinse off the rest of the way and called down to Dan, who was oblivious, reading in the living room, "Umm…we have no water???"
Long story short, our well pump went out this weekend (yes I did eagerly study that diagram last night.). You know that large pipe sticking randomly out of your yard. Yup. That's where it lives. And of course, is anything ever easy? Of course not. The wrong tools. Buying the new pump only to have it be a broken pump with no continuity (a term I learned this weekend). A trip to the giant hardware store with teenage help who don't know much about our problem. A trip to the other giant hardware store where finding help is like looking for a needle in a haystack.
But, with car lights shining into the yard and a series of family members coming by to help out through the day, by 9:30 last night, almost 24 hours to the minute, the sound of running water could be heard at Thomas Run once again.
Granted, the water has a beautiful brown tinge. And the kitchen sink is still refusing to give me any kind of water pressure, I'm still thankful that just maybe, I might be able to take a shower later this afternoon.
In the meantime, some other things I learned:
*without water, I had to constantly remind myself that we did have electricty.
*I become obsessed with keeping the house tidy when everything else (like Mt. Dishmore) is in chaos.
*that when the lady at the hardware store UNDERcharges me by $100 I will go back with my receipt and pay up.
*that one day, I wrote this. And it's good to read it again.
*that the lights I see shining from the windows in the farmhouse next door remind me that my twenty-four hours without water pale in comparison to the dear farmer next door who has come home for his final days.
*that we're all gonna be just fine.