Wow! running water!

Okay, we may be out of heating oil, but today we got ourselves back on the city’s water supply–right through those brand new pipes under the yet-unpaved street.  One small step for thirsty kind…. The “umbilical cord” attaching us to the water at our front step–a plastic hose loop that is not very firmly cemented into place–remains present.  Wehther this emans that the “regular” water supply is just a test or that someone will come along later and cut the cord is yet to be revealed.


One Response to “Wow! running water!”

  1. Bob Says:

    I was present for this delicate procedure of water dehooking and rehooking. Three safety-vested, hard-hatted workers were involved. One would think that this would be a five, maybe ten-minute job at tops. But actually it dragged on for a couple of hours. Soon after they were escorted to the basement and shown the location of the water shutoff, the eldest, and presumably the leader of the trio, got a phone call. He asked me if it would be okay to leave their stuff here and come back in “a few minutes.” It seems there was a hole they had to go dig. “Sure,” I said.

    Well they came back about an hour or so later. Two of them went to the basement and the third went outside to the sidewalk. I went to the kitchen and read the newspaper, hoping they would be done in time for me to have some lunch before a 2 o’clock appointment. After a long while I notice that an odd quiet prevailed. Were they still here? Had they finished and left without telling me? I went to the basement to investigate. One was crouched by the water shutoff valve, another stood gazing out the small basement window, and the third could be seen moving something or other just outside this window. I went back to my newspaper reading.

    Some time passed and then the youngest of the crew appeared in the kitchen doorway and asked if I had “a butter dish or something like that?” I wasn’t quick enough to respond, “Oh, you mean a margarine dish?” Instead, I said, “Do you need a small receptacle to hold something?” while images of various gooey and slimy substances raced through my mind. “Yes,” he said, “for water.” And even though it was for “just water,” I was reluctant to hand over the five-generation-family-heirloom butter dish. I produced a small plastic, Tupperware-type container. “Will this do?” “Oh yes, that’s great,” he said gleefully. Nothing like sending the junior partner back to his superiors with tangible evidence of a mission accomplished.

    The work was completed in time for me to eat lunch and arrive in time for my 2 o’clock appointment. And no butter dishes were sullied in the process.

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