Posted on 01/05/2006 9:30:01 AM PST by najida
About 4:30 Christmas Eve I get a phone call from Grumpy Batchelor Brother. We're both on the same well that had one very old pump and an even older, very small tank. We had water pressure so low that if you turned a garden hose to the sky, no water would come out.
Hey, I was happy. Some water is better than no water and 30 minutes to fill the bathtub was OK if I fixed supper in the meantime.
Anyhow, for some reason, the last month or so, he's gotten really froggy and decided to replace not only the pump, but the tank with not one, not two, but THREE big ole tanks.
OK, so the first time I turned on the water after this change it scared the bejeezus out of me, the dogs, not to mention the poor birds who got knocked off their perches by the force of the water. But it was nice to actually have water pressure strong enough to make a shower actually feel like a shower instead of chinese water torture.
Anyhow, getting back to Christmas Eve... I get a call from him that is basically "Something's wrong in the pump shed, we won't have water for about an hour or so." So I thought "Merry Christmas! No water!" and there I stood with myself and the kitchen covered dust, flour, cookie dough and a peanut shells. OK, I didn't have peanut shells on me, but I really needed a bath no matter how you look at it. And I also know that in South GA redneck lingo an hour could be anything from 20 minutes till Valentines Day--- 2008.
So, just about the time I get the first layer of sweepable crud up off the kitchen, I get another phone call, with a muttered "Sumthin's blown up, I need you over here to help me."
OK, barefoot, dirty, grungey me trots next door to my brother's, expecting to find the pump shed leveled and him sitting there with a case of Killians wanting me to help find his bottle opener that got lost in the debris.
Instead I find what he's been up to for the last week--- The old 10X10 wooden pump shed, modeled after the house is now covered, walls and roof with bright, shiny roofing tin. Through the 2x4 opening on one side I hear "I'm in here!". I stick my head through the opening and see my brother in the middle of three big water tanks standing in puddles of water. Standing those same puddles of water I see my mother's prissy cyrstal table lamps--- with the light bulbs now blown out.
OK, I admit, at first I was shocked at such crude treatment of such delicate fixtures. BUT-- I then realize I have both hands and a foot on sheet metal, with the possibility of live electricity running rampant--- now or at least in the future. So I quickly let go, take three steps back and lean wayyyyyy forward to stick my head through the opening.
The exchange went something like this-- Me- "What happened!" Grumpy Batchelor Brother- "I was working on the pump, the lights blew up and they threw the breaker in the house. It popped the crap out of me--- my hand is still tingling." Me- "I have a drop light at home, you want me to go get it?" GBB- "No, what I want you to do is go in the house and turn the breaker back on--the pump is fixed, I just need to watch it when it's turned on."
I look at the two lamps, the water and my brother; incredulous. Before I can speak, he then adds "And bring me two lightbulbs to replace these broken ones."
OK, at this point, I'm debating just going home. But I know him well enough to know he would still electracute himself with me there or not. At least with me there, I can call the parametics and start CPR. I am also a bit concerned that I look like I should be leaning out of a trailer in an episode of Cops...complete with bare feet and ragged T-shirt, but who am I kidding? We ARE an episode of Cops at this point.
Me- AGAIN "I have a drop light at home, you SURE you don't want me to go get it?" GBB- "Nah, these lights are working fine, it was the pump the shorted. It's safe. Really."
Now I'm thinking "Great, just effin' great. Merry Christmas! You're brother blows himself up and you'll still be out of water too." I also really, really, REALLY want a bath....so I'm willing to work with him.
Me- "Well, unplug those lamps first and stay away from the pump!"
He grouses but complies.
I go inside and in this order-- Find two lightbulbs. Find the phone and the auto-dial for 911. Go to the breaker box, looking out the window at the shed, intent on turning on the circuit, but turning it off if I hear a yell, or if the shed glows and arcs lightening bolts.
I turn on the breaker and I hear the pump start, well, pumping.
I walk cautiously towards the shed and lean wayyyy forward through the opening.
There's my brother, massaging his previously shocked arm, grinning smuggly at the fixed pump.
He asks for the two lightbulbs and I hand them to him and watch in horror and amazement as he screws them in and turns on the lights. He looks around, surveys his handiwork and checks all the fittings and then turns the lights off.
He then walks inside and states he's going to self-medicate his injury with beer, lots of it! He wishes me a Merry Christmas and that his gift is even MORE water pressure.
Oh boy. I go home, take my bath and discover that the toilets now sound like B52's at take-off. And I now have one more story to tell our niece about her Uncle, the Man Without Fear (and too much beer).
Just thought I'd share.
Great story - I was breathless with suspense by the end. I think I'll go turn all the lights out now, just to be safe ...
But a really good vanity!
I love it. But I don't love it if he is smoking at the gas station while filling his red plastic gas carriers--without lifting them from the back of his pickup...and the glowing cinder gets bigger and bigger...
You're a hoot, naj! ;oD
Wow...what a Christmas Eve! I'm glad you're all ok! Holy smokes!
VERY funny vanity... Thanks, I needed it!! LOL
MM
LOL! Good story.
I'd watch it!
I'm glad he didn't die. I had a great uncle who died like this; he was 98 years old, spry and living by himself. Could make, fix, or grow anything.
Power went out in the old farm house. So, he goes into the basement. About 1/4 inch of water in the basement (I don't know why), and he flips the breaker. Dead. At 98, he dies of electrocution. Crazy.
Tell your brother to quit being so, well, frightening.
Sorry, but that just sounds hot.
Worthy of reading in many a magazine :). Thank you.
Great story, was just like some I have on site (self vanity I know). But well told, well written, I loved it.
I too am without fear and too much beer!!!
As one who has crouched in a pump house at 4 am thawing the pipes with a hair dryer when it's -15 outside with a 40 mph wind, a well is a source of perpetual joy.
That is just too funny!
Sure beats my Christmas Eve in an airport (where everything was closed and I couldn't even get a cup of coffee!!!).
That was hysterical!
Families are so much fun, aren't they?
WHAT A GREAT REALITY SHOW THAT WOULD MAKE!!! I'd watch it religiously!
good read .... funny!
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