At least you don’t miss them until they are no longer there when you want them. Like the ability to turn the faucet on and have water pour forth in abundance. Early this morning my water went away as I was rinsing the soap off my hands. The bright spot was that it dribbled out long enough to get rid of all of the soap residue, a very fortunate plus since I had been doing some greasy cleanup in the kitchen, making up for a few days of forced inactivity due to an infection somewhere inside that caused my temperature to rise. So, while I am so used to taking water for granted, today I count as a very huge blessing the fact that I have plenty of bottled water on hand for drinking and for a limited amount of cooking. No pasta probably, but pasta, while delicious is not necessary for life (I can say that because I am English/Irish/German ancestry). I also have a fridge and freezer filled with burgoo, potato salad, and sandwich fixins!
This is actually my second water main break since I moved to town. The first one wasn’t quite as conveniently placed as this one. I was living in a house that time and had a guest for a few days, it was Sunday morning and to top it all off, I was in the shower covered completely by the huge handful of shampoo and shower gel I had decided was absolutely necessary that morning. To be honest, I just squeezed the tube too hard and half the contents squirted out on me so not being wasteful I had to bring up the biggest bunch of soap bubbles you can imagine! When totally certain I was completely soaped, scrubbed, bubbled and shampooed to perfection I turned the faucet back on, and to my absolute horror, nothing happened! Not a single cupful of extra water anywhere in the house. I didn’t even have a wet washcloth, since I prefer the scrubby on a stick that I’ve used for years — no, no, not the same one–I change them out regularly for, well, just fill in the blanks there on your own. It’s amazing how sticky soap that is only toweled off can leave a person feeling. Especially soap that has been so liberally applied.
My guest had awakened by the time I left the bathroom and she made a remark about how stiff my hair was, then said she was going to take the shower she had been looking forward to for almost an hour after my moving around woke her. A little demon almost made me let her try it and possibly soap up before she realized the predicament, but the angel emerged in time to let her know that there was no water, no way of cooking much for breakfast, no coffee — her drink, mine being cherry coke, and no hope of that shower. We tried phoning some restaurants in the off chance there would be one with some actual food for sale, but of course, no one was open for business that day. Seems we never think about all the uses for water until it’s gone, or at least I hadn’t, until it is no longer there.
I sometimes make lists of things to be thankful for, and on that fateful Sunday morning water was placed at the top of that list. That particular afternoon the National Guard trucked in several tankers of water and we were told to come to the places they were dispensing it, bringing our buckets, jugs, jars and whatever else we could pack up to hold this wonderful life giving nectar. Jane had elected to remain with me for the duration, even though she could have driven off at any time. We found as many containers as we could pack in the trunk of my car and drove to the station for our first of many trips to fill them, empty them in the bathtub, sinks, and every other pot, pan, pitcher and other container that could be found. I was finally able to rinse the soap off, drench my pruny skin with lotion, and feel human again and Jane elected a sponge bath rather than dirty up our tub full of fresh, clean water!