I can't say I enjoy circumstances like this, but they up my gratitude (when they're over).
Hubby had promised to 'unload' the car before I take it in for the hood paint job. By unload, I mean remove from it all things which don't pertain to transportation. And those things probably weighed 150 lbs, I bet. It's not a huge car. I don't know how it all fits in there, but wow, does it. LOTS of kids shoes and slippers and socks. Laundry of various kinds; pajamas, coats, blankets, more socks, other surprising articles. I swear my kids don't leave the car naked, but you'd think so after seeing what's in there. Toys, of course, of all kinds. And the sippy cups which we assumed lost forever have been breeding under the seats. Little Monkey's penchant for tearing paper into bits is evident, and apparently she's been able to obtain several items of junk mail and advertisements since last we shoveled out the car. In any case, tomorrow morning I must take said car, and Hubby had decided to wait until this evening to begin. He got home exhausted at 7, and by 8 we were out working on it (yes, we. I can't just lay about feeling guilty). I did the trunk. So far. Eventually I brought the grubby girls in for a bath. And here the story really begins.
I got about an inch-and-a-half into the tub before the water stopped. It just plain turned off. Though it may have been a little weak to start with (it's hard to tell; with a well the pump and pressure tank seem to vary at times). Hubby was sent for, and discovered that all the household water spigots were inoperable. So he went to the front yard, in the fading light, and removed the well cap. I'll save my concerns about seeing spider nests and other creepy things hovering over what I drink for another post. He used his fancy little electro-meter-thingy (I think that's the technical term) and found no power in the wires somewhere. He replaced some of those twist-on wire-cap thingies because the old ones were corroded, but while the meter showed life in one aspect, it still wasn't working right. So he crawled into the freaky basement spider cave, and tinkered around a bit. He said things like "hm, the pressure switch has closed contacts and we have 45 lbs of pressure" and "well, here's a blown fuse" and other things which made even less sense to me. It is good that this happens. I started college at 16, and he squeaked by his GED at 20, but there is no comparison when it comes to things like electricity, pumps, mechanics in general, and things like that. In my world you just don't mess with electricty and water in the same boxing ring. He's utterly amazing, even aside from attacking innocent rattlesnakes for recreation.
So he ran to the grocery store, crossing his fingers that they had one of those little round 20 amp fuses (it was after 9 and the hardware store was closed). They didn't, but he got an idea. He came back with a package of those little things that screw into a lightbulb socket and let you plug in something. He then got a little two-prong plug, and to the wires he attached some little contact-things (more technical jargon - sorry). He plugged the prongs into the socket-adaptor and affixed the contacts to each side of a thing that holds a long cylindrical fuse. He only had a 10 amp one, but thought he'd give it a try. I need to get a picture of the contraption to post on here. And a picture of what it should've been. He installed it in the spider cave, and went to the garage to flip the circuit back on... And the kitchen faucet started running water! I ran out to exclaim "it works, it works!" and he soberly nodded. Later he came in to say, "that thing's amping right at 10, so I'm not sure how long this is gonna hold." I have been instructed to buy the proper fuses at the hardware store tomorrow.
Big Sister crawled out of bed to say, somewhat tragically, "I hope Daddy can get the water fixed, because by tomorrow I think I might be really thirsty." I assured her that if he couldn't, we would call someone who could.
Not only am I grateful for the wonderful talents and skills God has given my husband, but I am wondering if I need to take these things into account when buying life insurance. They usually ask you how much you'd need to live on, but if I didn't have my Hubby, I'd have had to call an expensive surrogate. This almost makes up for how expensive he is to feed, too... Though now I may need to call an expensive back-hoe operator to finish emptying the car.