Sometimes when I go about my day I start to write blog posts in my head. On Saturday morning, as I was standing on my front lawn in 18-degree weather watching a dude in a tractor tear apart our property in search of the leaky portion of our water main, I started to form a post about how it totally sucks having to spend unexpected money on house repairs, but the satisfaction of a job well done is totally worth it.
That draft is currently in the shitter, along with that uncharacteristic sliver of optimism.
I really did try and have a good attitude about fixing this damn pipe, even when the excavator accidentally cut through our sprinkler line (meriting nothing but a jaunty, “Whoops!”). I even held it together when we realized the leak was coming from under the planter, meaning we had to rip the whole thing apart. Finally, Dave’s dad (who helps us with home repairs all the time and is basically a saint except for his love of the Seahawks) found the cracked portion, fixed it, and we all stood around and marveled at his handiwork. He advised us to run down to the hardware store and pick up some insulation to wrap around the valve before covering it back up, so we skipped off to Ace and returned 15 minutes later to find a hole full of water.
Oh, I should also mention that I had contracted some sort of stomach bug or food poisoning the night before, which required me to sprint to the toilet every 10 minutes and re-create the Dumb and Dumber Turbo Lax scene. Somewhere around my hundredth trip I thought to myself, “It could be worse; at least our toilet is working,” and then I realized HOLY SHIT WE’RE GOING TO HAVE TO TURN THE WATER OFF TO FIX THE PIPE. I have never panicked or wished for constipation so hard in my life.
ANYWAY, that hole full of water means that there is obviously another leak further up the line. From the way it’s draining into the hole it looks like it’s either coming from the shutoff valve or under the house. Under the house would be the worst case scenario, as it requires digging around in rock-hard clay by hand, hunched over, in the dark, surrounded by spiders. We’re going to try replacing the valve first, but based on my 29-year run of the worst case scenario prevailing, I’m less than optimistic that the valve is the problem. On a happy note, the Olympics are only 17 days away! Yay hot athletes in tight ski pants!