What is wrong with these pictures? Keep looking. Hint: faucets turned on full.... bottle of Purell next to the sink....
Last night, as I finally dragged myself away from petiteanglaise and set out to make a healthful, nutritious dinner for M and I, I found myself saying, "What the {colourful expletive}?!!" as I turned the kitchen faucet and got.................air. Not even a cough, splutter or hiccup. Just. Air.
On our street, whenever something like that happens, we go outside and ask the neighbours. Within three steps of exiting my house, I heard my next-door neighbour ask, "Water off?" Looking around, I saw most of my neighbours, milling around and all looking west, toward the southern end of the park where several trucks and a hive of city workers in orange jumpsuits were clustered around a gigantic hole where the sidewalk used to be. I am sure this is NOT what Shel Silverstein was thinking....
The workers, when queried, responded with, "A flyer was sent out, telling you the water would be cut off!" Um, note to City: Next time, send the flyers TO THE HOUSES ON OUR STREET. Not one neighbour had had any warning. All the charming gents could tell us was that the water would be off "for a while." That was 7 p.m. It is now 12:26 p.m. and I, for one, am tired of playing pioneer woman. If I had wanted to rough it in the bush, I would LIVE in the bush.
I have called the City. Helpfully, they told me that they DID get the water back on (sometime in the dead of night), but that, conveniently, it "broke again" (???) almost immediately thereafter. And that they have had "nothing but problems with it" ever since. Equally helpfully, the woman to whom I spoke passed the buck, I mean, passed me along to a "Supervisor" whose number I called only to find, surprise, surprise-- he was not answering the phone.
I have just spent the last 45 minutes trekking to the big, blue truck the City finally provided (after one of my elderly Portuguese lady neighbours went postal on the workers), filling up former CAT LITTER buckets with water. We have a sinkful, I have "flushed" one toilet (saving the other for later-- ooh! the excitement of having something to which to look forward!), and the bathtub has a good 20 litres in it.
Thing is, where the guys are digging the hole? It's right over the buried CREEK. Apparently, they can't figure out where all the water is coming from that keeps filling up the hole.... Rocket science, it ain't.
Right, off to churn some butter and weave some linen from flax I have grown and harvested myself.
Susannah Moodie, eat your heart out.
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Update, Charming Frank, from the City, just returned my call. Basically, he was not much help at all, but he was VERY NICE about it all and promised that, when the big blue water truck runs out of water (as it is shortly going to do, if the diminishing trickle from the hose attached to it is any indication....), it will be replaced by a NEW, FULL big blue water truck.
This was the best Frank could offer me and, frankly (punny me!), what else could I ask for? Not going to do me much good to insist that the instantly upgrade all the city's infrastructure. RIGHT. NOW.
Oh my gawd. Craziness. How long is it now? I hope it is done. Bad news to report on my end to ... must be something in the air. Check out my blog :(
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