Weekend Redo?

Running water is an amazing thing. Breathtaking. Welcomed. Useful. Refreshing. I could pretty much use any other positive adjective in describing how highly I think about water today. As I washed my hands before cooking breakfast, I remembered the day--well, Saturday, to be exact--when we didn't have water.  I was forced to use bottled water to rinse my contacts, wet down my hair, wash my hands, and, well, all the other things  you need water for. Our almost-camping-but-with-electricity-and-soft-bedding wasn't planned. In fact, we had lots of other options to consider on Saturday morning while the kids were enjoying themselves at Great Wolf Lodge for their youth retreat. Should we go biking? Golfing? Maybe take in a movie after a long walk? All the possibilities came crashing down when Walt muttered those infamous words, "We have trouble in paradise."

Trouble came in the form of a busted water heater, water pouring out into the garage, knobs that wouldn't shut down the way they were supposed to, and difficulty finding a plumber available last minute on a Saturday. After several calls, Walt was able to find one who could come out in the afternoon. I snuck in a walk with Sugar, and Walt took a trip to the driving range, but all our grand adventures we imagined for the day together dissolved in the water pooling up on the concrete floor as we waited for the plumber.

Because he couldn't turn off the water to the broken heater, Walt was forced to turn off the main water line, and we no longer had water anyplace inside the house. A spontaneous and necessary cleaning of the garage floor sparked a few more organizational projects around the house as we continued to wait. Mid-afternoon turned into late afternoon. Finally, as I took Sugar for her early-evening walk, I saw the plumbing truck turn up our street. Returning, I discovered a hose connected to the tank with water stream down the driveway. Turns out that Walt slowed down the water going to the tank, but not completely. Once the old tank was carried away, and the new tank installed, I expected to hear the rush of water coming from the shower when Walt turned the knob. Nothing. Only a trickle from the sink. Seems like trouble decided to stick around for another day.

The valve, which was made mostly of plastic, busted closed when Walt turned it off. The plumber said he had seen that happen so many times in these "newer" houses. His recommendation would be to get a new valve and reroute the pipe and other plumbing technicalities that I failed to catch. All I knew was we would be without water for the rest of the day, and to have  him return tomorrow, the Sunday surcharge would add to our already expensive weekend. Should we wait until Monday for water, with the kids returning and needing showers for school the next day? After a bit of discussion, the choice was obvious--we needed water. Well, okay, it is arguably correct that we didn't "need" water with neighbors willing to open their showers to us, but it felt close enough to a need for us to justify the extra cost. 

On Sunday, Walt stayed home to greet the plumber, and I headed to church. The kids were expected to arrive at the church around 12:30, so I agreed to catch a quick bite to eat with our neighbors. Caught up in our conversations, I failed to notice the texts and calls from Becca. Where are you? Are you coming? MOM! We are going home with the Sanders. Oops, failed at my parenting duty, too. They arrived early, I didn't respond to texts, Becca was tired and feeling overloaded with her school work awaiting her, that well, let's just say I'm thankful they were able to catch a ride and not have to wait the 10 extra minutes or anything.

When I finally got home, the house was quiet. No plumbing truck sat in the driveway. A shiny new tank anchored into the wall. I turned the faucet in the bathroom and witnessed the outpouring of the most fabulously beautiful clear fluid I have seen in a long time. Water! Not to be overlooked, or unappreciated no longer! Until the next thing I take for granted breaks, of course (hope you aren't listening washing machine, refrigerator, stove, car...) 

Our Sunday was redeemed! Our pocket book lighter, but we had the Super Bowl to look forward to. Friends! Food! Cheering our beloved Seahawks! Little did I know that trouble was lurking in the end zone, with seconds left to play in what could have, should have been, imagined to be the Seahawks great comeback win! Oh, Malcolm Butler, were did you come from? My Wisconsin family and friends can empathize with our loss, knowing all too well when their Packers saw victory snatched from their grasp. They probably empathized, but I'm sure not many were hoping for a Seahawks win. I understand. I probably couldn't have rooted for the Packers, either, if the tables were turned. With much disappointment and unanswered questions about the last play call, we packed up and headed home. To a home with running water, heat, food... It'll all be good... after a few days or weeks, or maybe in April when the Mariners start their season

I will say, though, as my eyes popped open early this morning, I couldn't help but wonder if it all was a dream, and perhaps we'd have a chance at a redo of the weekend.