Gas Leaks, Wet Towels and other Pre-Traveling Dramas
It is difficult to believe that Bob and I will be married 35 years this weekend. We decided to take advantage of a business trip he had this week in London and Copenhagen and spend a long weekend in the Denmark capitol to celebrate. As his work would be completed by Thursday, the plan was that I would fly later in the week and meet him there. The problem was that my flying solo at home coincided with pool opening week at our house.
In our marriage, there are certain things that one of us has sole control over. For example, I am in charge of the cooking, family and friend birthday management and determining when it is time to flip the mattresses. Taking care of the pool is COMPLETELY in Bob’s control column. The only time I begrudgingly take over pool tasks is when he is traveling and I have to empty the filter baskets. This job is so traumatic to me, as all too often, devil-may-care chipmunks and an occasional squirrel meet their untimely demise after running too fast, falling into the pool and eventually ending up in the basket. Suffice it to say, it is not a pretty sight, and yes, I wear gloves.
This turned out to be the Olympics of pool openings. First, we needed a new liner, which required the pool to be emptied with the water flowing down our driveway and looking like a tributary to the Passaic River. Next, there was a gas leak in the pool shed. This did not seem to be a problem that had to be solved immediately if we turned off the gas, as a. We only need the gas to heat the pool and we weren’t going to be home; and b. The pool guys assured me that they would only turn off the gas leading to the pool shed and gas to the house would be fine. Imagine my surprise when after two hours, I went to fold a load of towels from the dryer and they remained soaking wet! Clearly, my new pool friends don’t know much about gas lines. I left my house looking like a laundromat with towels hanging everywhere and that was only after a very tepid and consequently, fast shower this morning
Now the pool had to be filled and this was not a job for our hose. Unbeknownst to me, there are companies that supply water for families like ours, with empty pools. The name of our company was appropriately called “Waterman.” I was beginning to panic because I needed to get to the airport and I was told that we would need a lot of water—five trucks worth! It wasn’t like there were five trucks in my still continuously flowing driveway—two trucks went back and forth from some rural filling hole in NJ—located nowhere near my house-and then empty the water in the pool. I was a wreck.
But this story has a happy ending. With 45 minutes to spare, the Waterman guys successfully finished the job. But I have already told Bob that if I am ever in charge of the pool opening again, the trucks coming up our driveway will be filled with sand.
In our marriage, there are certain things that one of us has sole control over. For example, I am in charge of the cooking, family and friend birthday management and determining when it is time to flip the mattresses. Taking care of the pool is COMPLETELY in Bob’s control column. The only time I begrudgingly take over pool tasks is when he is traveling and I have to empty the filter baskets. This job is so traumatic to me, as all too often, devil-may-care chipmunks and an occasional squirrel meet their untimely demise after running too fast, falling into the pool and eventually ending up in the basket. Suffice it to say, it is not a pretty sight, and yes, I wear gloves.
This turned out to be the Olympics of pool openings. First, we needed a new liner, which required the pool to be emptied with the water flowing down our driveway and looking like a tributary to the Passaic River. Next, there was a gas leak in the pool shed. This did not seem to be a problem that had to be solved immediately if we turned off the gas, as a. We only need the gas to heat the pool and we weren’t going to be home; and b. The pool guys assured me that they would only turn off the gas leading to the pool shed and gas to the house would be fine. Imagine my surprise when after two hours, I went to fold a load of towels from the dryer and they remained soaking wet! Clearly, my new pool friends don’t know much about gas lines. I left my house looking like a laundromat with towels hanging everywhere and that was only after a very tepid and consequently, fast shower this morning
Now the pool had to be filled and this was not a job for our hose. Unbeknownst to me, there are companies that supply water for families like ours, with empty pools. The name of our company was appropriately called “Waterman.” I was beginning to panic because I needed to get to the airport and I was told that we would need a lot of water—five trucks worth! It wasn’t like there were five trucks in my still continuously flowing driveway—two trucks went back and forth from some rural filling hole in NJ—located nowhere near my house-and then empty the water in the pool. I was a wreck.
But this story has a happy ending. With 45 minutes to spare, the Waterman guys successfully finished the job. But I have already told Bob that if I am ever in charge of the pool opening again, the trucks coming up our driveway will be filled with sand.
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