(Taos when it’s NOT raining, painter unknown)
The past few weeks have been soggy, inside and out. Rain on the outside, leaks in my tiny home. My neighbor and landlord, “John”, can’t fix the rain but he is a certified plumber so he’s the one to call when there is a mysterious wet spot (two, actually) on the carpet.
It started when John and his son came to re-plumb the pipes, moving them inside so they won’t freeze like they did last winter. Wait—that’s wrong. John quickly realized it started when daily rain for two months this summer softened the ground so much that one side of the trailer sank a few inches, creating all sorts of havoc we didn’t discover until long after it was righted and level again.
My goodness, the things that can go wrong!
It took daily attempts to plug multiple leaks, tearing the bed down each day to get at a particularly difficult one, then putting everything back together so Scout and I could go to bed, then wake up to the same wet spot on the floor and do it all over again—and again.
I hated to bother John every time, but he was only concerned about finding the real leak and fixing it for once and for all. Finally, what we’d both dreaded became clear: he would have to tear out the shower and remove the toilet to find the leak. It would be a ten-hour job. Scout and I would have to move out for the day, leave our comfortable little home and cram in with my son in his decidedly uncomfortable rented RV. So, on Saturday, we did.
I’m trying to think of a lesson here, some kind of metaphor that gives meaning to this story, but there isn’t one—other than, as George W. Bush used to say at the height of our invasion of Iraq (now there’s a metaphor): “Stay the course.” I forced myself to ignore the stress and stay calm.
All the chaos, the daily upending of my life, was stressful to say the least, but it was worth it. My floor is finally dry. I don’t have to worry about mold—or another winter with no running water. And I have the best landlord in the world.
p.s. We tend to think that the experts, the plumbers and doctors, the people we trust to fix things, know all the answers. But I’ve learned that, like everything else, it’s by trial and error.
There you go—metaphor and lesson, a twofer: Life is a detective novel. You’re welcome.
The End
Sorry to read of so much disruption..
The lesson: John is an Angel.