CALL A PLUMBER!
I should start by pointing out that our house was built in 1951 or there abouts and many of it's working parts are originals. As soon as one thing gets replaced another is waiting in line to go downhill next. The fates are generally kind enough to spread things out and not to let everything go bad at once. We cope.
The water pressure had been a bit wonky for a few days. This usually means the lines need to be opened on the water pump and flushed clean.
I'm not sure what inspired the builders of this old house to drive the Water Well into a small hole at the far end of the basement. Inside the basement. Flooding during any rainy spell has been pretty consistent. It can be controlled with the sump pump. Usually.
When it's plugged in.
So when Spousal Unit declares we probably need a plumber I should know by now to call one. Immediately. Before he has time to take things apart, pretending a new occupation.
He is NOT a plumber.
7 pm on a Thursday night is not a good time to realize the fool has been missing for an hour or two and I have no idea what he's up to. A little like a toddler that's been quiet for way too long. It's not going to be good.
"I'm fucked. There's water everywhere...(unintelligible utterings) ...well...broken..."
Yeah, not good.
Thank goodness we have wonderful neighbors. I bolt across street - speak to the wife, who opens door and yells: "Tom's in trouble." (again is left unsaid. It doesn't need to be ;)
Several hours later and a trip to town for more parts and all is back to normal. A new shut off valve has been installed at the source. Perhaps the cause for all the rainy-season flooding has been found, as there was a hole worn in the pipe going into the well big enough to fit a drinking straw through.
I picked up the phone and called across the street to thank them.
And to ask Marcia for joint custody of her husband.
When they first moved across the street (about 16 years ago) before a week was out, she had convinced me to babysit her boys: an 8 month old & a 4 year old. They also had a dog - part husky/shepard. It got in the habit of coming across with the boys; whenever the boys were here so was the dog. Eventually the boys grew up and stopped coming over. But not the dog :)
I got shared custody of their dog for most it's life, as she was left outside when nobody was home there. Whenever there was bad weather she knew that all she had to do was whine at my door to come in. Safe Haven. Often I would walk her home so she would remember where she really lived. Other times they would call and ask us to let their dog out, so they could call her home.
About the joint custody request: Marcia has agreed.
And she promises not to call and ask that he be let out.