133. Is the Grass Greener? Cowboys, pickaxes and old photographs

Thursday 1 June 2023

We had a good distraction from our water issues today; friends who’d been staying an hour away stopped by for a walk and lunch on their way back home to North Yorkshire. We both enjoyed spending time with them and picking Marc’s brains on all things related to heating systems and sustainability. I had recently found an old photograph of Sarah and I, which we both studied, lamenting the fact we undeniably looked younger then. Hardly surprising given it was a photo taken when we were at university together, but even so, ageing denial is such a thing.

Five of the six of us took a path less travelled to come down the land at the back of the house, which was far more exciting for all of us, a bit of off-roading and moss-bouncing and bog-sinking (I’m amazed there’s any water still around – almost everywhere is extremely dry). Last time I walked down that way, with my shoelaces merely tucked into my boots, one lace managed to loop itself and attach to a hook on the other foot, so my feet were joined, which I only discovered as I went to leap across a boggy area. Very tense, but recovered remarkably well, if I may say so myself.

Sarah, Marc, Maya and Nate down a garden not-path less travelled. An oil painting.

Back to the most talked about element of our daily lives, the water issues. We had a private water specialist visit yesterday to talk to us about bore hole options and to see if he could see what is wrong with our water supply. We all liked Alan, the kind of man who could have been patronising explaining to us (me) how things work but who was actually really good at explaining things. I am, of course, now a self-professed water tank expert. Anyway, he gave us a series of tests to run, all done with the assistance of our helpful neighbour. It would seem that there is a leak, probably from our stopcock into the house, or possibly the pipe into the neighbour’s barn. He gave us instructions for something I was willing to do, but I sensed resistance from Chris at my taking to the casing around our stopcock and pipes with a pickaxe. I realised I could probably do the destructive part but had no means to put it all back together. Mitch is working on Sunday and we have elevated Mitch to nothing-he-can’t-do status and we have full confidence he will dismantle as well as reassemble and find and replace a possible leaking pipe with the skill and judgement required.

Long story, but we appear to now have a quarter tank of water, albeit a bit cloudy with sediment. I had my first proper shower since Friday night and I chose to have an outdoor shower with our fab new shower screen (cowboy style, I think of it as being; two wood panelled screens with the front open onto a non-overlooked part of our garden). It was only when I started running the hot tap that I remembered we had turned the hot water heating off. But it was tepid rather than cold and outdoors was sunny and warm. I had one of the best showers ever, outdoors, and dried and warmed off in my hooded cape-towel in the sunshine. We have even been using taps, though yet to flush the loo rather than pouring run-off water down the loo. Tomorrow, excitement mounting, I am going to use the washing machine. It’s either try it and see if it’s okay (I have a suspicion there is some issue with the washing machine) or go to a laundrette. The try-it-and-see option is currently winning. In fact, I’m off now to select the most missed clothing from my laundry basket and optimistically load the washing machine.