A pioneer woman, I am not. I insist on plumbing. WORKING plumbing!
We had a weird problem with our water this evening. No water came out of the tap upstairs. No water came out of the hot tap in the kitchen, but hot water came out of the cold tap. The downstairs bathroom had cold water coming out of the cold tap. After consulting on the phone with my technical staff, I turned off the water heater and pump breakers. (We did briefly toss about the idea of the unusual problem being caused by some strange voodoo.)
I called up my sister to borrow a couple of bottles of water for the night, and found that Dad was home and standing next to her. He’d spent the larger part of the day fighting a fire, and must have been tired! Still, he came down and within an hour I had running water!!! Turns out it was a faulty pressure tank that we’ll be replacing tomorrow. I’m really thankful that I have a Dad next door who can fix pretty much anything.
Every time something happens with the plumbing, I sort of freak out a bit. I usually have horrible visions of carrying water from the pond every day. I may be a country mom, but the thought of toting the laundry down to the river to beat against the rocks is not an attractive one! (I have three little ones. That’s a LOT of laundry!) My hat’s off to my great-grandmother who raised five children in this house without the convenience of my modern plumbing.
Now, if you excuse me, I’m going to go turn on my faucet and say a prayer of thanksgiving for my running water!