Yesterday the water pressure started acting funky. Today it died. Fortunately our old friend Moses the Plumber managed to come out and check on it.
Nearly five hours have passed. There is still no running water, and he and two assistants are fighting with the well.
The water heater apparently died in spectacular fashion, having sprung a massive leak, forcing the well pump to work around the clock for several months.
This fried the well pump.
Submersible well pumps are not the cheapest piece of equipment in the homeowner’s arsenal. Fortunately the water heater was under warranty, so that wound up being free (and Lowe’s was fabulous about jumping through the hoops on the return.)
While pulling up the MASSIVE length of pipe in the well, (we have, as it happens, a 300 foot well) they found cracks in the pipe, which was as cheap a model as a builder could possibly install. (“Well, you know,” said Moses, “you really want the black pipe, not the cheap white contractor pipe.” “Honey,” sez I, “I’m a children’s book author. You can tell me that we need pipe made out of diamonds and I will nod and say “Oh, really? Good to know!” )
As I speak, they are still pulling up pipe.
Now, these guys are awesome. I have total faith in them. They fixed the rain of gray water on the porch and the septic pump and all manner of plumbing woes. They will fix this. I have no doubt.
But I am very tired. I have run to Lowe’s more times than I like to count (laying out a shocking sum each time) and it is getting dark out. I have no idea if there will be water tonight or not, or if they are just going to call it a day (and who could blame them?) because they still have to lower a bajillion feet of pipe back DOWN the well and they would need to come back tomorrow morning to do it.
My hair feels gritty.