The outer limit

With this post, I think I’ve reached the outer limit of something— I’m just not sure what.   It could be either:

patience…..

transparency ……

or bad taste.

I want to say first, I love our house more than anywhere I’ve ever lived.  But….

For those in the know, the plumbing is a constant source of aggravation— and conversation.

For those not in the know, you now know.

The latest glitch involved the toilet in the master bathroom— which has already gotten attention from plumbers —and from our cat, Peppy, who prefers it to her litter box.

The problem happened— when all plumbing problems are decreed to happen, by law of nature—on a weekend.

The breakdown also involved the nearest backup toilet—so V and I had to use the guest bathroom on the other side of the house.

Being that rare Jewish woman with actual camping experience, I was a good sport and handled this with a good attitude until the plumber came.

This is a small town, with a surprisingly large number of plumbers.  Possibly this is no coincidence—when I think about how all the waste in the entire town backed up in our guest-room bathtub. (Luckily no guests were in it at the time.)

Anyway, this isn’t my point.

So I’ll cut to the chase— since no one likes waiting when a toilet is involved.

The plumber came and went.

The ins and outs of plumbing remain a complete mystery.

And I learned there are limits to human progress:

We can see the surface of far-away planets beamed back from satellites;

We can see with incredible precision inside the miracle that is the human body;

We can see our homes from outer space with a click on the internet.

We cannot, however,  see the pipes under the concrete slab on which our house is built.

And that means I can see the future—which does NOT include the use of our toilet, shower or sink.

They tell us— rather than repair the old bathroom—-it would be far easier—and cheaper—-to put in a whole new bathroom somewhere else in the house.

So  the countdown begins…. testing my outer limits.

I’m no longer making jokes about camping.

P.S. For the record, Peppy  has accepted this with a far better attitude than I have.

Also for the record, especially considering the current economy, I realize I’m lucky—with or without a working bathroom — to have a house, or a place to live.