Water

Everything breaks eventually. Some things take millions of years, some just a few seconds, but in the end, nothing will remain intact. I have found over the past week that water—the all-powerful giver of life and leisure—is the most destructive force inside a home. Now, that sounds bad because I’m a writer and that sentence was meant to be cryptic and inexplicit, so allow me to explain in further detail with a follow-up paragraph.

It all started when I was giving a neighbor a tour of the house last week. In the basement, I observed that a few of the ceiling tiles were sagging a little more than I had ever seen before, so naturally, I poked at it. My finger went right through and a torrent of water came rushing through the small finger hole. I investigated further by pulling down that tile and a few others surrounding it that also had water damage, and I saw the culprit: a leaking “S” trap from the bathtub drain. Of course, at the time I didn’t know what an “S” trap was, so it was just a leaky pipe, and I thought it could be fixed with a little thread tape and some elbow grease. I was not correct in that assumption.

This is where it all started.

 

A week later, $20, a helpful neighbor, some time given by Amanda’s brother, and a new segment of P.V.C. pipe to replace the old (Metal?) piece, and we are back down to one leak, this time from a much more difficult area of the same tub; the faucet. The new leak is the result of moving some other pipes around to saw off the old pipe.

This is the fixed drain pipe. The small copper pipes on the top side of the picture lead to the bathtub faucet. The one that extends farther is the leaker.

All of the working pieces of plumbing are still just called pipes, knobs, and turny pieces when I speak. I haven’t picked up any of the lingo yet but I have done an incredible amount of nodding as to look much more intelligent in the matter than I am. I do not possess any of the tools to fix this problem on my own, and my neighbor who was helpful yesterday is not available today. So for now, a bucket in the basement will serve as a collection receptacle for the slowly dripping water that needs to go away. More on that some other time.

It's actually the one on the left that is releasing water through some small perforation in the metal. The one on the right will surely burst a leak sooner rather than later. The more we dig, the more problems we find.

 

This week I went to the only recovery meeting available in my small town of 811 people. Out of those 811, four are in my condition. I say that in a good way, of course. I was in a room for an hour with three other gentlemen talking about the solution to our old problems. I’d like to point out that a lot of people think we talk about our problems and bitch about life in meetings, but really, anybody who works a good program should be talking about the solution, and how to bring that to other people who need it. But anyhow, I got a lot out of that meeting and plan to return every week. I would like to find a larger meeting in the nearby town which hosts an Alano club where I can find some guys to work with and maybe some outside service commitments like bringing meetings to detox centers or jails.

And finally, for my last topic, I just want to share how incredible this neighborhood we live in has turned out to be. The girls are always on the move: they are either here with their friends, or at their friend’s houses playing. We have had many visits to houses in the neighborhood where the girls play, and we have in turn had many parents over here. I believe I mentioned in my last post that this community has a very safe feel to it, and that sentiment has only been enhanced with time. This is going to be a great place to live, as long as the house doesn’t flood itself.