I scooped water into the five gallon buckets from the pond and carried them back to the house, thinking of all the stories I’ve heard of people traveling miles everyday for their drinking water.
I thought of the people in Alabama, after one of the hurricanes(I can’t remember which one), who had to line up for water deliveries that were meager and scarce. I thought of the people in Flint, Michigan who for years haven’t been able to drink or bathe in the water that comes out of their faucets. And the people in my neighboring town of Hoosick Falls whose water is contaminated.
This is how my mind works. When something goes wrong I think how much worse it could actually be. I think it’s a survival mechanism, to try and find the positives in the situation. A way of telling myself it’s not so bad, that we’ll be okay.
We may not have water in our home, but we have access to water.
Last night, as I was washing the dinner dishes, I noticed a drop in the water pressure coming out of the faucet.
A couple of weeks ago we lost our water completely and were lucky enough to find a plumber who would come to our house on a Friday night and fix the problem.
But it was a temporary fix.
Last night, our 40 year old water pump died. Which is actually a good thing. That means the Point (a shallow well) that we get our water from isn’t dried up and we don’t have to dig a new well.
At times like these, Jon’s good at making the phone calls to get someone to fix the problem and I’m good at figuring out what we need to do to get through the day or days without water.
We have woodstoves downstairs and electric heat upstairs, so as long as the water that may still be in the baseboard heating pipes doesn’t freeze, we should be okay. We have a pond and a stream for the animals to drink from and for us to get water from so we can flush the toilet.
We can buy water at the market in town or get it from friends. We can even shower at friends homes if it goes on for a long time.
We had enough bottled water in the house to, brush our teeth, have tea with breakfast and to keep the dogs water bowl full. The dishes can wait.
I’m realizing how often I actually wash my hands.
I’m seeing how natural it is to turn the faucet and expect clean water to come rushing out. It’s just like the expectation of flicking a switch and having light in the darkness.
Jon just called me from the house (I’m in my studio) and told me our friend and handyman, Jay Bridge is out getting us a new waterpump right now. We should have running water back by this evening.
So we’ll have lunch and get back to work. I’ll go to Bellydancing class tonight and we’ll pick up my wool in Vermont tomorrow morning.
Something that could have been a lot more trouble and expense, especially with the promise of winter snow storms and single digit temperatures coming this weekend, has been averted.
By this evening, when I turn on the faucet to wash the dishes, and water comes rushing out, when I turn up the heat and hear the hot water running thought the baseboards, I’ll completely forget that for a day and a night we had no running water.
And life will go on as if nothing unusual at all happened.