No, you may not use my computer........ I have no idea what happened to my masterpiece of a story. I can no longer change my font and size........... This MY laptop, hands off! If you are reading this and wondering what I am jabbering about, read the previous post first or none of this will make any sense whatsoever. Oh, and please forgive all the typos and misspellings that I thought I had corrected............
When we left off with the story, the husband had wiped his black epoxied hands on his bare chest in an attempt to remove it from his hands. He could not restore water and as midnight approached I convinced him that nothing more could be done and to try to get some sleep. No soothing shower was to be had, so we simply went to bed and he surprisingly went right to sleep. I wasn't so lucky, but I had the TV. This was before we had a dish installed and we had only local programming available via the antennae on the roof. I lay there with the TV on low in hopes that a talk show would bore me to sleep. It was working and as I was drifting into a state of oblivion, the screen suddenly filled with snow and static filled the room. I turned it off and heard the distant rumble of thunder that was followed by a flash of lightening. I could hear the wind, too. I turned on the bed lamp and tried to read myself to sleep.......... I woke with a start. The light was still on as well as my glasses and the book had fallen on my chest. I turned off the light and pulled back the curtain to try to determine the time (like all good insomniacs, I hide the clock so I won't be calculating how many hours I have slept, how many I should sleep, etc.). It was gray and dreary, still predawn, but what was on the lawn? I squinted, then put my glasses back on. Still unable to determine if a UFO had landed, I shoved my feet into slippers and grabbed my robe and headed out to investigate. Out the front door and around to the side of the building I went cautiously.
There lying mangled on the ground was the tent pavilion from the other side of the building. Poles were sticking out in all directions and the antennae was poking through the torn canvas. I stood looking at the devastation while wondering about the fate of the roof. It was the original roof from the 60's; cedar shakes that were constantly shedding. I shuffled back inside and checked a clock. 4:30 am. I decide to let love of my life sleep in oblivion, no sense in both of us being miserable. The new tank went in without a hitch that day and water was restored. The antennae was salvaged, but the tent was totalled. And he who plumbs lost a lot of chest hair, it has sense grown back..... gray.
So here I am almost 6 years later with a sense of deja-vu, drinking re-heated coffee. He who plumbs is off on a mission to find a part for the switch that turns the pump on to fill the tank. He is sure he can fix it. The brass do-hicky is "frozen" and is not regulating the pump, just turns on and off repeatedly and very loudly, like a drummer boy gone mad. Two days of dishes are sitting on the counter and laundry is piling high. But, the roof is new, I have a dish with what seems like thousands of options for viewing. I have the wonderful world of blog to lose myself in. Who needs water?
14 comments:
I am so sorry for what you are going through. However, I do have to thank you for the subject of my article that goes into the paper tomorrow. I had forgotten all about the importance of duct-tape to a man, until I read your post. Of course, I have a whole stash of my own duct-tape stories to draw from, but your reminder was just what I needed. Thanks.
~ Just Joany
Red Wagon Flights
Are you truly that blase or is it an act? I would probably be a tad more demanding about the water. Scratch that, I'd be frantic. Although I suppose your way is much healthier!
When I was in high school we were on well water so when the electricity went we were SOL. I imagine going through that semi regularly makes this not such a big deal. Let's hope the doohickey he's hunting does the trick! Keep us posted.
who needs water...bah! oh i do hope these woes are passed you soon.
Gosh, I'm sorry. But I can't help it... I LOVE He Who Plumbs, and obviously so do you.
Water? Go outside an haul some snow in and heat it up, then pour into bathtub.
Problem solved.
The fickle finger of fate has certainly pointed your way this winter. Summer can't get here soon enough so you can enjoy lots of running water.
Were you a Sam Kinison fan?? He did a routine about starving people who lived in the desert... He said "You live in a damn desert! What do you expect!!" Maybe you need a warmer campground! LOL! (Just messing with you!)
What a story! I guess at some point you'll have all the original pieces swapped out for new ones...that should buy you a few years of peace.
You have such a good attitude. I would be the biggest whiner by now, heck, I would have been before! hang in there!
That is quite a saga! Thank heaven my hubby just calls the pumber!
Kathy needs water!!! That's who. I feel like this is one of those soap operas where the lady meets the guy but something keeps them apart and little twists of fate keep them from finding their true destiny together . . .
that's what this all is. you and water need to come to an understanding. and he who plumbs must stop standing in your way!
Hang in there Kathy!
Kiran
But think how much money he who plumbs is saving you.....
Hello Kathy
Now I understand the reference to water in the comment on my blog lol
You poor bugger -I'd have killed him by now Haha You must really really love him.......or maybe not
Take care O smelly one
What's that saying about things that don't kill you may you stronger? Or is it something about killing the plumber if you start smelling any stronger?
So sorry you're having water issues again (or still). That makes things so rough. When I was growing up we had a cistern and had 1,000 gallons of water hauled in every week. If we ran out of water before the new load came in, then we were toast. If the electricity went out we were also toast. The only person who could prime the pump to get water flowing again was my dad. No fun...
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