It all started when…

Have you ever had a string of days in which everything goes totally, weirdly blooey? I’m definitely not talking about the unbearable losses that most of us suffer at some point now. I’m talking about those times when you’d swear some evil genie had set up your schedule like a very long line of dominos and then, with an evil chuckle, had knocked the first one over and settled back on its haunches to watch the chaos.

Don’t look at me. I had nothing to do with this mess.

Here’s my story. It all started when there was a water main break out on the state route that leads to our neighborhood a couple of weeks ago. No water at all for half a day, and then we had to boil all water for forty-eight hours. In my mind, this set it all off, but the plumber says it’s a coincidence. (What does he know?) I know this: within a day of that water main repair, one of our toilets started leaking. And then I noticed that either the water softener? or the washing machine? was leaking–water was coming under the wall into the kitchen. Cue that call to the plumber. His six minutes of work only cost $170. (While he was here he installed a $5 part that promptly broke again this week, and rather than call him back, my husband watched YouTube videos after consulting Google, bought a quality part uptown, and fixed it himself. Lesson learned.)  However, while he was here, the fine plumber informed me that the real problem was our septic tank–it clearly needed to be pumped immediately. (He could tell this because the toilet was “gurgling.”)

“Oh,” he added. “And your water pressure is way too high. I’ll test it.” He tested it. “Yep. It’s 90. Should be 60. I can install a pressure relief valve. Where’s your intake?” He searched around the water heater. “Oh, well, it’s behind this wall. Gonna have to take out part of the wall to get to it. You can call the water department and see if they’ll put one outside, where it comes in from the street, but if not, we’ll have to move all this…” (pointing to water heater, water softener, shelves.)

Properly terrified, I called the water department. Closed until tomorrow. I called the septic people who came on an emergency basis the next morning. It was just wonderful. We learned that the internet cable people who had come to bury the cable the last time it was accidentally cut had thoughtfully ignored the flags the first repair person had laid around the side of our large fenced yard to direct the cable burial and had buried it strait across the yard. Right over the septic tank. Of course. And just under the stone walkway we’d put in just this spring. It was really fun watching them dig up the path and slice right through that bright orange cord two inches beneath the surface. (Cassie said, No fair, you won’t let me dig out here, and I’d have chewed through that cord for free. Easy.)

Now we had no internet. And, septic guys told us, all cheery, the septic tank is nowhere near full. That’s not the problem. But maybe…could be…Huh. A tree root from one of these big old…? Well, ma’am, we gotta come back and do an exploratory excavation for that. Might need to be jetted out. Oh, we’re gonna have to take out part of your fence to get the equipment in. (It’s a split rain fence with pet screening. The upright posts are set in underground cement. The pet screening is in long, continuous rolls.)

The cable repair people could come the next day. (If the creeks don’t rise, etc.)

Aren’t you just dying to hear the rest of the saga?

Septic guys did come back, a week later, and our back yard is now a wonderful mud playground for Cassie. Only wrecked part of the front yard bringing in giant-tired, heavy equipment and getting it through the remains of our fence. (That was after I told them twice that the posts were set in cement underground. They messed with moving one for a half hour then knocked on the door to tell me they had a problem: they’d discovered that the posts were set in cement.)

The water department said “The EPA doesn’t allow us to do that.” (Does anyone know why the EPA wouldn’t want water pressure controlled?)

And, Thanksgiving is this week. (I hope yours is beautiful! Thank you for sharing here. I’m grateful for you.) Now our dishwasher is suddenly leaking out the bottom. Okay, it’s old and we’re suckers, we dashed out to Home Depot and bought a new one before the holiday when we’re very happy to be having family here. The store called me today. It’s arrived, and they could install, but

They’ve had to apply for a permit to install a new dishwasher in the exact same spot as, logically enough, the old dishwasher, from the (wait for it)…County Health Department. It’s a new law. How long will that take? “Could be, well, you know, whenever they get to it, I mean, it’s the County, Ma’am…” is the answer I was not excited to hear.

Cassie is insisting I acknowledge that none of our imploding house can be blamed on her. And not the water main break/either.

So how about you? Your turn. Please! Use the comments spot right below to share about a time you’ve had  dominos fall…and also, have a lovely time of giving thanks. May you always have much for which to be grateful. I know I do.

 

 

 

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