Déjà vu

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Yesterday, after I watered the tomatoes and strawberries, it occurred to me that last winter, when the fried-by-deep-freeze pump in the crawl space had to be replaced, the plumber had made the source of the water coming into the house the cistern. As this will empty out soon, I decided I should switch the source to the well. Fine. Came in, ran the tap in the bathroom sink. Lots of sputters as air bubbles in the pipes were pushed through. Otherwise, all good.

Then last night, just as I was about to go to bed, I realised I hadn’t done the dishes, which is a big no no. Dishes cannot be left until the morning. Pulled out the dish bowl, turned on the kitchen sink tap. Certainly not full flow, slowed down to a trickle, then nothing. What the hell? Checked the breaker panel. Was the problem the well pump? Occasionally in the past the breaker’s been tripped if there’s a problem. Nope. Gah. Grabbed a torch, went down to the crawl space. Pump screaming. Switched source back to cistern. Pump still screaming. Unplugged pump. Came back up, washed the dishes with the water that had got into the bowl before water ran out. Went to bed.

Perhaps the pump, like me, just needed some sleep?

Get up, get dressed, go down to crawl space, plug pump back in. Still screaming. Unplug pump. Come back up, call plumber. He’ll get someone over as soon as he can and will try to make sure it is today. Ring Joe to say I guess I won’t be coming for a walk this afternoon. Ring Jean, who agrees to let me come over to her place for a shower. Before shower, attempt to have a dump in a toilet that flushes. No good, too stressed. (Too much information? Too bad.) Have shower. At least my hair’s clean.

And now I wait.