Monday, July 02, 2007

What next? Locusts?

Last night, I got up at about 1:30 and noticed there was no water. Now, this is oddly not unusual at night, as the subdivision has enough water pressure to run the sprinklers at night, but no so much as to always be able to get water up to the second story at the same time. Especially if all the neighbors are running their sprinklers. This is one of the problems associated with living in the fancy subdivision that is on top of the hill looking down on everyone else as opposed to being down low with the riff raff. The water tower isn't a whole heck of a lot higher than my house.

But this morning I got up, and when I turned on the faucet, I heard a sucking sound. Well, this is really the opposite of what one wants to hear when one turns on the water first thing in the morning. Especially since the sprinklers are done running hours earlier, thanks to my fancy Excel spreadsheet.

Being naturally curious, I decided to check the basement for pods. Or broken pipes. I headed immediately to the utility room into which the main supply is routed, replete with water meter. It was dry, but I heard the sound of rushing water. Oddly, rushing into the pipe that feeds the sprinklers. I flip the shutoff, and the sound abates. Well, at least the basement isn't flooded.

Once again, curiosity gets the best of me. I head outside despite being dressed in nothing but sweat-shorts and a bathrobe. I head right to the anti-siphon valve, which is the first thing when the supply pipe exits the house. I need look no further. The wall of the house around it is soaked. There is a sopping-wet earth all around and a fairly impressive puddle where the landscape rocks meet the grass.

I had The Mrs. flip the supply on and then off again. Water gushed forth from the anti-siphon. But not to worry, for I have a home warranty!

I went to file a ticket on the web, and was reminded how, specifically excluded from the warranty contract are (a) sprinkler systems, and (b) any plumbing not within the physical confines of the house. So this was doubly not-covered.

Happily, if there is anything happily about this story, one of the two-man crew I hired to redo the deck is a "master plumber", and they happen to be arriving tomorrow to begin the deck work. I call up his cell, and he will happily gladly fix it for me first thing tomorrow so that my lawn doesn't die.

The other happy thing is that we have now apparently found the source of the horrible knocking that started happening about 3am semi-nightly that I knew was related to the sprinklers. When The Mrs. cycled the shutoff, the anti-siphon made horrible knocking sounds for a moment that were exactly the same as what we've been hearing.

Now, irony of ironies, the thing flooded the inground trampoline pit. It made a big mess out of half of it, turning all the loose dirt I had piled up on that side to backfill behind the walls into a giant mud pit. I discovered that this evening when I went out there to shovel.

I never should have bought this house.

6 comments:

wife said...

No no no - don't let the house hear you say that, or it'll do more just to piss you off. Good house, nice house. Gorgeous house. Never thought we'd live in a in a million years house.

CJ said...

ouch....

The mud talk reminded me something that I had almost forgotten about....

are you turning the trampoline pit into a carp pond before the sun dries it up? carps are considered good fortune -- well, if you get the right ones. You should go and stock up for 9 koi in your pond for good luck. Must have exactly 9!

nggwaw

fat moother said...

Oh No - what next? How come a master plumber is building decks? jxkzl

wife said...

The master plumber is the sidekick.

Rhonda said...

money pit comes to mind.
I did write that quietly...hoping the house doesn't read.

blogauthor said...

master plumber = very high hourly rates!

Sorry about the trampoline pit, that sux. Maybe you'll have a drought and it'll all evaporate. Or rent a bunch of camels to drink it all.