I was at EPW for a long weekend with Andrew and some friends (let's call them Jonathan, Alison and their son Alexander) and we had an entertaining weekend.
On Friday when we arrived everything was fine - late supper, chat, bed. On Saturday morning I discovered that the control box for the pump was making a nasty clicking sound and showing no sign of giving the signal to pump water even when turned off and on again, or sworn at politely. So we then had to work out a strategy to get 5 people through a weekend without running water. There were several resources available to us:
- a boat full of rainwater near the front door - perfect for supplying loo-flushing water by the bucketload (and it kindly rained a couple of times over the weekend, to keep it topped up)
- two black buckets that we could carry water from the nearest burn, that could be boiled for drinking and washing
- a jam pan (see Mother Making Marmalade) for heating of quantities of water
- a small saucepan suitable for scooping of water into pans or over heads for washing.
- 4 people with up-beat and positive personalities and can-do attitudes (and one small person who was jumped on if he complained too much - but since the lack of water also meant a (slight) reduction in hygiene standards he wasn't too bothered except when being held down and forcibly bathed in cold water)
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3 comments:
You should have sworn at it rudely. (That's me channelling pa.)
I think you ought to have mentioned Donald coming out on Sunday and jury-rigging it. In the Wee Free that would be excommunication and hellfire.
As she says, on Sunday the local plumber Donald came by to get it going again - he couldn't fix the technical buggery so he bypassed it and there is now a switch which when one turns it on, turns the pump on, until you decide that the tank is full enough and then you turn it off. Terribly Eeyore-ish satisfaction.
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