Remember the well we are replacing? I got a call at home on Monday night, confirming that they would be bringing in a backhoe Tuesday morning to dig a trench between the new well and the house, along with putting in the pump. We usually leave home about 9 a.m. or 9:30, and it's an one-hour drive. No, they said. They need us here right away--at 8 or 8:30--so they can get inside and see the layout of the basement, to decide the exact path for the trench.
So we psyched ourselves up for the experience. Somehow, we both were in the car by 7:20 a.m. and on our way. We arrived at the house, unlocked the door and let the crew get to work. Then, off to McDonald's for our own breakfast.
By the time we returned, the trench had been dug, and the guys were busy ...
Then we started our own work. Yes, we couldn't put it off forever. We went downstairs to work on the basement for the first time.
What a day!
Let me tell you, it was easily the most difficult part of the project so far. It's fair to say that my mom sort of lost it for several years, going into a deep depression after my brother's death in 1985, and she did little work down there. My dad did some stuff down there, but after he died about 12 years ago, she hardly did a thing down there except wash clothes and get things from the freezer.
Consequently, the basement hadn't been cared for years and contained lots of dust and dead ladybugs. (There was a population explosion of ladybugs the year she had her accident.)
There are some old cabinets there. In one of them, she had some stuff saved (apparently) for recycling. Empty glass jars and containers, along with plastic peanut butter and juice containers, washed and placed on the shelves. She also had some home-canning jars in there. Those were full. When you grab a jar and the label on the lid reads "Apples 1996," that's all you really need to know. Some bottles and lids were in good shape. Others were rusted. We found some cat food and cat treats. They wound up in the trash, too; we don't want to be accused of cruelty to animals.
Nearby was another old cabinet, which served as an auxiliary pantry (though she had plenty of storage space in the kitchen). This apparently was from earlier, to judge by the stuff there. Old food. Some of it very old. Things like canned soup, spaghetti sauce, cereals, cake mixes. We found several cans of pie filling that were leaking around the base. We found a box of Cream of Wheat cereal--which you prepare by mixing with hot water. The Cream of Wheat had gotten so hard and solid, you could have driven nails with it.
The soup cans were the worst. A few of the cans were leaking, and there was lots of dirt and rust on the outside. "Extremely poor" doesn't begin to describe the condition of some of them. We said "Yuck" many times as we worked, quickly filling boxes and garbage bags.
Here's how it looked at the start, when we weren't really aware how yucky a job it would be ...
Once we got into the work, I didn't touch the camera again. Not with all the junk that had gotten on my fingers.
One other thing about the basement--it gets very damp. Sort of like a medieval dungeon. My mom had a dehumidifier working down there, but it had been off for a long time, and the humidity down there takes its toll. We swept up lots of dust, lots of dead ladybugs and threw away lots of damp bags.
The ultimate experience came during the afternoon: a wooden pallet that had bags of fertilizer and lawn food on it. But the basement was so damp and the bags were so old that all of them had rotted through. Very gingerly, I lifted two of the bags into a big trash bag. But on the last one, I didn't support the weight on the bottom well enough, and it split apart as if made of newspaper. So we did a lot of sweeping for a while.
We got between 1/3 and 1/2 of the basement done--including most of the worst part. There are other areas remaining that will take time and patience, but we had run out of both by mid afternoon.
Meanwhile, the backhoe dug a trench, the guys connected the water line and the power line to the well, put in a storage tank in a corner of the basement and connected everything. A bulldozer came around to smooth down and compact the dirt ...
The crew left at about 4 p.m. I turned the green handle on the tank--and the house had water again. Both the pressure and the rate of flow are better than I had ever seen at that house. The well diggers are sending in water samples to the health department--once the labs give us the green light, we'll officially have water again.
Hooray! We have a running toilet! No more need to walk outside behind the garage when the need arises or make a fast trip into town. And we can wash our hands and faces at the house now! We don't have to make a beeline to the bathroom at the first place we visit, to wash away the grime of our project. Until now, all we could use at the house were moist towelettes.
It also means that--for the first time since the house project started--we will be able to stay there overnight instead of driving back home every night. We won't be cooking--my mom's cookware has all been put away--and there's no TV. But there are cards, and we can play card games over a drink or two. (Strip Uno?) Or we can step outside, look up at the stars, listen to the night birds or frogs and maybe lie down together on a blanket (if the bugs permit that kind of thing).
It also means that whoever buys the house will have a good supply of water.
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While having lunch at Subway on Tuesday, we further developed plans for our mini-vacation in eastern Wisconsin. That's taking place in two weeks. It's time. Summer is running out. We need to see something different and go somewhere else before I'm tied down with high school sports.
The plan is to visit Green Bay and Oshkosh, where we plan to visit the National Railroad Museum and the Oshkosh Museum.
If David were coming along, he would want to go to the Green Bay Packers training camp. But he isn't coming, so he doesn't get a vote.
Guess who we will visit down there? My dear friend S, who lives in that area and whom I haven't seen since December 2005--20 months ago.
This visit will be a lot different from past ones. The biggest difference is that I won't be sleeping next to her This time, my wife shares my bed. S has given me an idea or two about places to visit in that area, and I hope she can come along as our guest.
My wife, of course, has known all about S from the beginning, and she seems to accept it. In point of fact, it was she who made the suggestion that we visit her. After that, I told her about some of the physical problems S has been dealing with lately, involving sciatica and some bleeding plus disagreements with her husband--she has been talking about returning to Ontario and a guy she met during her earlier trip there.
But (she says) her husband has given her the green light to see me in a non-sexual setting, and that's fine with me.
S is a dear, close friend, first and foremost. Quite possibly, we will never sleep with each other again. Strangely enough, that doesn't bother me. The sex helped us become close friends--but that bond of love is still as strong as it could be. I can not imagine it being stronger.
So I'm really looking forward to that. We both are. All three of us, in fact. Less than two weeks from now.
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The parades at the firemen's tournament are tonight--at 7 and 11 p.m. The late one is the shirttail parade, with the bizarre entries and "Firemen Gone Wild." The official theme is "Firefighters are Superheroes." So, as I speculated in print, you may see some Spandex tights stretched like never before. (Of course I'll be there, camera in hand.)
Then, Friday morning and lasting all day, the races.
A cold front is supposed to bang through here sometime tonight, and I hope the rain and the parades don't coincide. It should be wild enough that we don't need wild weather to boot.
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