Water Woes

The joys of home ownership are making themselves increasingly known at the Toddheim. I am enjoying my morning shower when Hubby sticks his head in the bathroom door. 

“Rinse off and get out! We’re getting water in the basement.”

I just cleaned the basement the day before. Naturally. We both need to leave for work. Naturally. We expect house guests the next day. Naturally.

So I towel off, wrap my robe around me and head downstairs. Hubby already has the Rainbow vacuum going; I toss a stack of old towels onto the floor and grab a mop. I decide I definitely do not enjoy the feel of wet concrete on my bare feet. By the time we’ve soaked up the worst of the flood, my bathrobe is soaked too. I go get dressed.

“What are you DOING?” Hubby hollers. I figure he’s ticked off because I’ve abandoned him. Turns out he hears a new, swooshing sound and what other explanation could there be than that I must be “doing something?” We search around for the source of the sound, much like the way a washing machine sounds while agitating – except our washer sits idle and empty.

“Turn off the breaker to the furnace,” Hubby instructs. I do, and the swooshing noise stops. Turns out the thing-a-ma-bob in the plumbing pipes is clogged, sending water into the doo-hickey on the furnace. The drum that houses the furnace fan is half-full of water, so when the furnace tries to cut in, the fan creates a washing machine agitator sound. I wonder briefly if I should throw in a load of clothes and a little detergent, but I keep the thought to myself. Hubby’s sense of humour is not at a high point right now.

At least the furnace fan is getting nice and clean, but this is beyond our expertise. Good ol’ Beauchamp Plumbing comes to the rescue. Later that morning, they have everything unplugged, cleaned up, dried out, and running again. I haven’t seen the bill yet, but we’ll worry about that when it arrives. I wonder if they’ll consider accepting our firstborn in lieu of cash. They’ve always been fond of him.

Two days later, I see water running out from under the freezer—the same freezer we’d moved two days earlier so we could dry the floor. We start searching around for the source. The phone rings. While hubby’s on the phone, I listen carefully and hear drip… drip… drip.  With my trusty flashlight, I track the sound like Sherlock Holmes. The water is coming from an unused pipe overhead – totally unrelated to the earlier incident. This time, it’s the doo-jiggy at fault. (A side benefit to this adventure is my learning the technical names for all these thingy-bobs.) 

Beauchamp Plumbing comes to the rescue again. I hope they don’t charge extra for showing up in superhero capes. (OK, I’m not actually present when they arrive, so I can’t say for certain they are wearing capes. But why wouldn’t they?) This time, pipe ends are expertly capped and soldered shut—never to leak again.

I try to look on the bright side and realize how much worse things could have been. I’m thankful that both times, we were at home and able to investigate immediately. I’m thankful the damage didn’t extend to the drywall (so far, anyway.) I’m thankful for plumbers who come on a Saturday. I’m thankful for our vacuum that sucks up water. I’m still thankful for our cozy house, which I love. And I’m extremely thankful sewage wasn’t involved!

“In everything, give thanks.” That instruction comes from an important book I’ve tried to follow most of my life. Not always easy, but far more healthy than whining. In everything. Give thanks.