On water issues

Our well fiasco is still an ongoing thing. Apparently (as in, we didn’t know because no one told us), we share our well water with our neighbours. When they started doing construction, they cut the line that fed water to our well and…well we went without.

I moaned at length about that in a previous post, so there’s no need for me to go on here about how hard it is to have no water and how spoiled we are in Canada with water. No, no need. Instead, I’ll let you know that we do have water, albeit our neighbours’ because we reconnected the water line.

Still, we need a permanent solution and stealing their water is not it. So, we have someone coming in to drill a new well for us…sometime this week. Hopefully very soon.

Now, you’d think that’d be it. I’m done talking about water and taking up your time. Well, no. Our sub pump decided this was the perfect time to throw a fit and it broke yesterday. Ironic, because a moment ago I was moaning about how we had no water and without a sub pump, we’d be…well, flooded.

This new development almost send my lovely hubby over the edge. He shook his British head and declared we had to move. Right. Now.

He’s away this week, however, so I get to make the decisions and my first one is that we’re not selling our house.

The second one is where our well will go…hee hee.

 

Disaster Monday

I have a wonderful hubby. A lovely, caring, rather big man who has a heart to match.

But he can’t turn on the TV without help.

In fact, just about anything with electricity baffles him. I honestly don’t know how he manages to drive to work.

You think I kid? Only a week ago, I showed him how to work the TV remote.

Again.

Last Monday, I was at work when I got his panicked phone message.

“Taylor, there’s a problem with the sub pump. We have a flood!” And nothing else. No further details, notes or instructions.

Calling him is futile. He would never remember to keep the cell with him or even know how to answer it if it rang. I was impressed he had managed to use the phone and leave a message.

Fearing a flood of Biblical proportions, I spoke to my boss, pleaded for mercy and ran home.

Where I found my hubby staring at the sub pump surrounded by our dogs. All wore identical puzzled expressions on their faces.

While the dogs tried to demonstrate their boundless love by ruining my work clothes, I inquired about the flood.

He pointed to the hole. “It’s coming.”

I peered over the edge to the perfectly working sub pump, with its back up and prayed to whatever deities exist for patience.

“You’re not going to need the mop.”

He chuckled with a knowing look. “You’re so wrong.”

Just then, River decided he had waited long enough and lifted his leg.

My hubby was right, he did need that mop after all.