Unnatural disaster

We were awakened bright and early yesterday morning by the sound of heavy equipment pounding the street. Five a.m., there’s yellow iron out at the intersection, banging away. We figured there must be a reason, and of course there was — broken water main. Okay, fine. That meant there was no water for showers, etc. in the morning, but we got by (I biked in yesterday anyway, so I showered at work).

Last evening was the big school budget vote and the middle school’s open house. Not a coincidence. I had, of course, forgotten about both things as I got tied up at the end of the day with enforcement against a recalcitrant entity which shall remain nameless, but which is basically pleading ignorance of the speed limit despite having been caught, ticketed and fined many, many times before. Called home to say I was finally on my way up the hill, and was reminded of the need to go to the middle school, so I said I’d meet the family there, if eldest daughter wouldn’t be too mortified by having her father wander around her middle school in spandex. (She’s apparently just used to me by now, though eventually I know that will be too much for her to bear. If my father had shown up at school, or anywhere, in spandex, I would simply have died.) So we went, we rocked the vote, we viewed the art, toured her classrooms, and finally got on our way home. When we got here, there were supposed to be baths taken, but Rebekah said the dishwasher had taken up the hot water. Odd, but not impossible. So she was going to skip her bath. A little while later, it occurred to me, sitting downstairs, that I heard the water running, so I thought perhaps Hannah had decided to get her shower. Spouse asked if she was, because she heard the water running, too, but when she went up to check, no one was in the bathroom. Well, we’ve previously experienced water main breaks that we could hear in our pipes, so that was our fallback. But spouse went down into the basement, thankfully, and called up, “This is bad!” In fact, it was bad — the rush of water was our own, from a blown hose feeding the dishwasher. Water everywhere, an inch deep in places, but surprisingly little real damage because everything down there is up off the floor anyway. It flooded a couple of tool drawers, but mostly hit the drawers where I store lead type, which will dry out just fine, and my expensive planes, but I can clean and oil them easily. So, a lot of work cleaning up, but no real damage done.

Except, of course, that while I was down there, I heard the telltale spit and sputter of a hot water tank leaking onto its flame. The damn thing isn’t four years old, and was in fact a replacement for a previous one that went bad after only a few months. Arrgggh! I am officially too old to hump water heaters up and down cellar stairs myself, and I’m tired of getting stuck with a gigantic, very heavy (our water is VERY hard, and there is a lot of settling in the tanks) old water heater that I can’t get rid of for months on end. So, as much as it goes against everything I stand for, I think we’re going to have to hire a plumber to replace the heater. (Which is okay, because we’ve been ignoring another minor drip for oh, say, a year, and it really needs to be attended to; my efforts and, in fact, previous professional plumbing were not permanently successful.)

Tonight went a little better. Replaced the hose on the first try, although the shut-off valve, which hadn’t been used in twenty years, of course leaked when I reopened it. Hoping I don’t have to replace that, but we’ll see.

Sometimes I just wish I didn’t know how to do these things.