Deja Water

To set the stage: Maybe you've heard—it's been damned cold here. I've decided that hell is not full of fire and heat. It's full of below-zero temps and icicles and double-digit below-zero wind chills and snow-snow-snow! And we're livin' in it, Darlings.

On Tuesday, wonderful new insulation was blown into the ceiling of the garage, creating blessed heat in my bedroom.

Friday morning I woke to no hot water in my bathroom. The pipes were frozen. I showered in the kids' bath and Jaci called the plumber. The plumber was able to get the pipes thawed out enough so that no damage was done. We placed a space heater in my bathroom and left the water dripping and thought we were done with that problem.

Saturday I had to go to work, so got up and took my shower in my bathroom but had only hot water, no cold water. (Should have paid closer attention to this sign.) I made sure the water was dripping and the heater running, and left for my long, frigid drive. When I got home at 5:00, I headed straight for my bathroom, as I needed desperately to micturate. (Oh, look it up. This is what Daddy (an M.D.) always had us say instead of "I gotta go pee." It was the South. It was the 50s.) As I stepped into the bathroom in my besocked feet, I placed my foot squarely into standing water. Oh! Shit! I immediately began shouting for Jaci to come and for the babes to bring towels. Jaci calmly walked in and said, "your tub is overflowing."

It seems the pipes had thawed and water had begun running but the drain must have still been frozen, as the tub filled faster than it drained, and water was now seeping through the bathroom floor, through the brand new insulation, through the sheetrock in the garage ceiling, and pouring onto the garage floor below.

All I could think of was my pipe nightmare a year ago in Tucson. Story 1. Story 2.

I want a year to be calm, serene, pothole-less. I was sad for most of 2007—the kids left in February; I tried to figure out how to craft my life without them; they let me know they missed me and wanted me with them so I started looking for a job; I spent a year sending out résumés; I had, as I recall, one brief relationship all year. It was a depressing year for me and I was glad to see it draw to a close. I was certain that 12/31/07 would be the end of the sadness and 2008 would be all goodness.

Then 1/1/2008 dawned, beginning a month of house woes. I got a job, but it included a 60-mile commute. I moved. I sold my houses, and had to cough up $70K to close. I had a few forgettable dates. I lived for my kids and grandkids.

Certainly with the passage of 2008, the financial woes would slow down and 2009 would be smooth sailing. Right? Then the horrible cold set in and this pipe fiasco. It feels like I'm a jinx to plumbing systems. It can't get worse, can it? Certainly, it will not get worse. This is the bottom, and we have only uphill to go from here.

(Did you ever wonder about that adage? Doesn't "going uphill" entail more work? Climbing? Pedaling harder? I question it every time I write it.)

My mother called yesterday, as I had not called her all week. I explained to her that I had been sick and to speak was to cough. I knew I couldn't talk on the phone without coughing, so just had not called. I told her about our plumbing problems and our concerns over the cost of repairs. She said "I'll pay for you." Oh, General Tso be blessed. She'll send me money. Oh, wait. What did I hear her say? "I'll pray for you." Shit. Mom, I'd rather you send me money than pray. Money goes a damned sight farther than prayers, at least when it comes to plumbing!

So that's our week at Chez Clark. And three blocks away, on Coronado, I'm getting rid of leftover furniture, having some painting done, trying to get the house ready to move in. Each hour I spend in that house convinces me more and more that I've gotten ahold of a real estate treasure.

If I start having plumbing problems when I move in over there, I'm simply going to shoot myself!