My Fab Weekend
I had a great weekend planned. Truly I did. Parties and such. Fun. Relaxation.
Of course, as with so many things I plan, this went awry. And that quickly.
Before we went off to Las Vegas and SoCal the other week, the hubs and I noticed we had a leak. It was in the front of the house, outside, clearly related to the irrigation system. I called a plumber. They took my credit card and said they'd be by the next Monday (when we were recovering from our night out at the Vegas bars that didn't allow loud talk or foul language).
The plumbers did arrive and did call -- at an awful time in the morning, especially since we were still asleep in the nice, comfy hotel bed -- to share that they couldn't work on this because it was indeed irrigation related. So, they and the hubs conferred, and he felt competent to handle the situation once we were home.
Which he was, only the ma-ROON who owned this house before us fancied himself a contractor and handyman and did a lot of remodeling work. Himself. All of it wrong.
I won't get into all the wrong here, but suffice to say, if it's not working right, it's because this genius monkey had a hand in it.
So, the hubs turned off the water to the house, and pulled off the bad piece, which, because our water is so hard, broke off in his hands. And then, because the ma-ROON set up the irrigation and sprinkler system at the wrong point in the water system, instead of an easy fix, the hubs had created our very own Old Faithful.
One hysterical call to the City and fifteen wet minutes later, the water was shut off. Completely. By the City. Of course, in order to turn it back on, the City must come out again.
No worries, right? (Oh, stop that snickering in the back of the room.) The hubs fixed the pipes and we had to wait 2 hours for the glue to set. Then he called the City. To discover that there were 4 water mains broken all over the place, and while we were on their list, they weren't coming by any time soon.
Let me mention that no water means NO WATER. No washing of the hands. No cleaning of the dishes. No flushing of the toilet. Yes, exactly...and no outhouse, either.
The nice man from the City managed to reach us at 9pm. By then, we'd given up all hope of the parties -- the hubs was still covered in pipe glue and crud and I was in no mood. We threw a party for the man when he turned the water back on.
But, you know, at this time of the year, it's good to remember all that we have and can and should be thankful for, right? Me, I'm beyond thankful that we have friends who let us come by merely to use their bathroom, that the nice man showed up before midnight, and that we have indoor plumbing.
It's the little things you treasure...
Love,
Gini
Of course, as with so many things I plan, this went awry. And that quickly.
Before we went off to Las Vegas and SoCal the other week, the hubs and I noticed we had a leak. It was in the front of the house, outside, clearly related to the irrigation system. I called a plumber. They took my credit card and said they'd be by the next Monday (when we were recovering from our night out at the Vegas bars that didn't allow loud talk or foul language).
The plumbers did arrive and did call -- at an awful time in the morning, especially since we were still asleep in the nice, comfy hotel bed -- to share that they couldn't work on this because it was indeed irrigation related. So, they and the hubs conferred, and he felt competent to handle the situation once we were home.
Which he was, only the ma-ROON who owned this house before us fancied himself a contractor and handyman and did a lot of remodeling work. Himself. All of it wrong.
I won't get into all the wrong here, but suffice to say, if it's not working right, it's because this genius monkey had a hand in it.
So, the hubs turned off the water to the house, and pulled off the bad piece, which, because our water is so hard, broke off in his hands. And then, because the ma-ROON set up the irrigation and sprinkler system at the wrong point in the water system, instead of an easy fix, the hubs had created our very own Old Faithful.
One hysterical call to the City and fifteen wet minutes later, the water was shut off. Completely. By the City. Of course, in order to turn it back on, the City must come out again.
No worries, right? (Oh, stop that snickering in the back of the room.) The hubs fixed the pipes and we had to wait 2 hours for the glue to set. Then he called the City. To discover that there were 4 water mains broken all over the place, and while we were on their list, they weren't coming by any time soon.
Let me mention that no water means NO WATER. No washing of the hands. No cleaning of the dishes. No flushing of the toilet. Yes, exactly...and no outhouse, either.
The nice man from the City managed to reach us at 9pm. By then, we'd given up all hope of the parties -- the hubs was still covered in pipe glue and crud and I was in no mood. We threw a party for the man when he turned the water back on.
But, you know, at this time of the year, it's good to remember all that we have and can and should be thankful for, right? Me, I'm beyond thankful that we have friends who let us come by merely to use their bathroom, that the nice man showed up before midnight, and that we have indoor plumbing.
It's the little things you treasure...
Love,
Gini
Labels: contractor, handyman, humor, irrigation, Las Vegas, pipes, plumbing, remodeling, SoCal, Southern California, The City, water, writing
posted by Gini Koch at
11:54 PM
4 Comments
