Cleaning up down under

Well, of course, this year is not like previous years. Temperatures plummet, pipes freeze. Go into crawl space to unplug pump. Get by until the thaw, then plug pump back in and have running water again. That’s how it’s supposed to go. (Along with forgetting in spring to do anything to attempt to prevent it happening again following winter.)

Rain and above freezing temperature on Saturday. Probably not enough time for pipes to thaw, but try plugging pump in anyway. Pump starts screaming. Not yet. Try again Sunday morning. Pump screams. Not yet? Try again this morning. Pump screams. Okay, this is bad. Plenty of time for pipes to have thawed. Pump seems to be fucked. Plumber required. Make a call. He’s going to try to get here today (lotsa folks on the island having the same problem as me), but, even if he can, no guarantee he’ll have what he needs to fix the problem.

Now, if you’ve been following this sad saga, you may remember that the first time I went into the crawl space after water stopped coming out of the taps, I realised Mr Rat had been having a party down there. I also realised that the water filters were black and in need of changing. (Oh, and it looks like Mr Rat has been eating the replacement filters.) This, unfortunately, requires the assistance of a manly man. 

Job one: Take chewed filters to hardware store where they confirm that Mr Rat has indeed destroyed one of the filters, but the other one is still okay. Buy replacement for destroyed filter.

Job two: Do some research on smells rats hate in the hope of discouraging another rave. Turns out many such smells exist, including peppermint oil and citrus oil. Go to health food store, which I am sure will have these. Yes, they do. Twenty dollars for a tiny bottle? Well, okay, if it will put Mr Rat off.

Which leaves job three. I cannot possibly ask any manly man of my acquaintance to crawl around in this mess. It’s disgusting.

Sometime before the pipes thaw I am going to have to go down there and do something about it. 

Put job three off for as long as I can, but this morning it could be delayed no longer. I cannot ask the plumber to work in here.

So, I don rubber gloves and a mask (rat faeces – ugh) and crawl in there. 

Still doesn’t look great…

… but, trust me, it’s a vast improvement. 

When the water is once again flowing and I can take a bucket of hot, soapy water down there, I will go back and have a proper scrub. (Cannot say how much I am looking forward to that, she says, tongue wedged firmly in cheek.) And spread around some cotton balls soaked in peppermint oil.

Day eleven of no running water. The rain has got rid of the snow, but fortunately the thaw means the rain barrel is no longer frozen, so I’m good for at least a couple more days.

Sigh.

Note on calendar for March 1: DO SOMETHING ABOUT THE BLOODY PIPES!