A Well That Never Will Run Dry

For cooking and washing purposes, we usually have the 40-gallon RV tank at least partially full. It has been on the last dregs for a few days now, but I hadn't taken the time to just fill it up. Finally, though, I took the half minute to flip the proper switches, inside and out, and heard the water come on.

Phil noticed a bit later that it wasn't filling. The water pressure has been quite low the last few days, so we walked the new cow waterline, but didn't see any leaks. Phil's walked the whole length repeatedly. Perhaps the filter was clogged: we do have a good deal of sediment come in the water.

He changed the filter. The pump went slow and slower, and then simply quit.

I had no water stored in our potable RV tank. I went to make bread and had to use a cup of water the boys had left on the table. I washed my hands in the stock tank swimming pool.

Phil called the company that installed the well. The earliest they could come was Tuesday. Maybe. They couldn't schedule it, since the person who schedules such things was out of the office.

We are all filthy: a week of play and work outside leaves us needing showers. Is it possible to feed a family without potable water? I have kombucha and broth prepared, so that's several gallons. But ... Tuesday?!

I haven't had a moment of panic in some time, but I came awfully close. I know we lived without running water for two and a half months when we moved here. How did we do it?

We didn't have 360 plants in pots; no chicks to water, no cows. We didn't go to church because how would we have cleaned up? We hauled water in five gallon containers.

That could be doable again.

Phil thought to call a plumber. One should come tomorrow.

But hours after shutting down all the spigots, we had some water again. Was the pump simply run dry by a leak somewhere? Is it actually fixed? Phil will check in the morning. We'll see what happens. Oh for a well that never will run dry.

As for me, I spent several hours dealing with garlic. The most promising 150 bulbs (a few, on reflection, are almost the size of cutie oranges: a good deal better than a cherry) I tied in groups of ten and strung up in the barn. The hundreds and hundreds of teeny bulbs I cut off with three inches of stem and put in a bulb crate. It may not be ideal, but I have limited storage space, and bulbs the size of cherries simply don't get the best treatment.

I have plenty more to manage in the morning.

Phil continues to work until dark on cow fencing. He does that morning and evening. It's coming along. The neighbor came over for several hours this afternoon. He brought a tire iron (bless him: he saw the tire off and said, "It's always something, ain't it?"). He and Phil worked on the form work until Phil's body gave out. Tomorrow.