I have a water problem. My water is filled with iron. And it tastes awful. I have had it tested and all is well (no pun intended) but it tastes horrible. And everything gets clogged and gunked up. Shower heads, tap screens, water heater fins. Pots and pans get mineral build up. If I fill the tub to prepare for a power outage, when I drain it a few days later, the tub is covered in rust particle film.
Because of this I had a whole house filter installed years ago. It should be changed every few months.
I am not a squeamish woman. Spiders do not scare me. Rotting carcasses do not gross me out (too much). Yet, I have total heebie-jeebies about going into the crawl-space under the house to do this task. I don’t know why. Subsequently, it rarely gets done and so, all the problems I just described persist in spite of having installed a solution.
A dear neighbor, PS came over today just to be with me as I did the dastardly deed. But, I crawled in and crawled out immediately saying “I have to steel myself” or some such thing. Neighbor heaved his 75 year old, stiff, creaking body down into the crawl space hatch and dragged it along the muddy , animal poop and (remember the earlier post about a rotting carcass under my house?) dried-up-carcass-littered crawl-space floor, over septic drain pipes, and water lines and did the friggin’ job for me.
It is nice to have a friend.
As he drove off on his 4x4 he stopped, turned and smiled saying, “You owe me!”
Indeed, I do.
Next time he mows my lawn on a hot, blackfly and mosquito riddled day, I will offer him a nice, cool, clear drink of water.
[iTunes was playing Leo Kottke’s “Cool Water” by Bob Nolan while I was writing this.]