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.
Richard says
I feel your pain. Well, kind of. Put the bathroom somewhere else in the house? They must be kidding. Whose to say the pipes under that “other part” are any better? I am guessing you have at least one other indoor toilet. No camping out in the yard just yet. We, on the other hand, have eight toilets, But BUT … only one is on this side of the Atlantic and, of course, it’s the only one we do not own. Should this one fail us NYC might be seeing a tent go up in Riverside Park. I might be driven to consider flying again … far far away to a little town in an Italian regional park where the plumber is our friend. Best of luck to you and Peppy.
Darryle Pollack says
THank you for commiserating– although it’s hard to feel sorry for either of us–especially someone who owns anything in Italy, even one toilet. Meanwhile over here in the US I’m doing my best not to bitch about it—especially since we’re not yet reduced to real camping.
DuchessOmnium says
For most of a year I heaved what I have produced up the canal towpath in what is colloquially known as a “shit suitcase”.
I’m not sure I signed up for that, but nevertheless, I reckon plumbing is, well, relative.
Darryle Pollack says
Well this means I better stop complaining about walking across the house…
And I thought the Brits are so civilized.
Never heard of this—and definitely think it requires more explanation—sounds really…..intriguing.