Saturday, April 06, 2013

Not yet all wet

Life is rigged. And boring. Seriously, I mean, you know the drill. 

Yes, living without running water has been inconvenient, and you'd think people would sympathize, but all they do is stare at my jugs. 

Everyone should go without water for a few days. She says, as though that were a real hardship. I imagine my Alaska friends splitting a gut over that. "A few days? Hah! Try it for a few months," they'd say. "Or years. Decades!" Yeah, well you last frontier people are mad. I'm talking about the rest of us; sane, normal people, the complacent, wasteful kind who take natural resources like fresh, clean water for granted and piss them away every day without a thought. It takes two gallons to flush a toilet. Two. Gallons. (I'll pause for effect here.) That's a container in one hand poured into the tank -- glug, glug, glug -- and then from the other hand -- glug, glug, glug. It's a lot of water. And when one has to schlep those gallons, only to watch them spiral down the drain to no good effect other than taking the stinkies with them, it gives one pause. Not that eliminating the stinkies is not a good effect. It's just wasteful to use so much perfectly good water to flush poo. But that's what we do with every flush.

If it's yellow, let it mellow. If it's brown, flush it down. That's good advice, whenever water's scarce. But of course, water's always scares. We just don't act like it. 

The solution to poo-lution is dilution. So we need some water for such things. All the more reason not to waste it.

It takes gallons to wash a few dishes, too. And how many people just let it run while they're brushing their teeth?  Gallons and gallons, right down the drain.

Talking Head interlude:
Letting the days go by, letting the water pull me down. Letting the days go by, water flowing underground...

Once the well's a well, well, the excavator guy (his name is Chris) will dig a trench six feet deep and about 15 feet long. This will include some sort of mechanical/human interpretation of a mole, as he will tunnel a couple of feet under the slab foundation at the edge of the laundry room. The well guys (Rick, Tom and Frank) will return to install the pump. The plumber (he's Fred) will run pipe and electricity along the bottom of the trench from the pump into the house, direct the water through a pipe that will come up through the cement-slab floor (another hole required there), cross the ceiling overhead and down to the pressure tank. Nothing to it! I should have water spilling from my spigots by week's end.

I should be paying for this until I'm 94. 

Flowing faucets or not, I vow to be more frugal with this precious, life-sustaining fluid. Shorter showers, fewer baths, less flushing and of course, mellowing. 

They call me mellow, yellow (quite right)....

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