The Pain of the Pipe

It could have been MUCH worse

It was another hot day in the northeast but the lawn needed to be mowed.

So, out I went. I should tell you that (first world problems alert!) I've been using a push mower for over a year now, after having a tractor. Sadly, it died for good in 2019 and it hasn't been replaced. I look at it as good exercise but it also can wear on my back.

So I did the front yard; "the heavy stuff," as I call it.

Appropriately drenched in sweat, I climbed the stairs and took a comfy shower while a load of laundry went around in the washing machine.

I came back downstairs.

Uh oh.

I saw water where water didn't belong.

"OK, don't panic," I thought. (Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy fans rejoice!)

We've had water issues in the past but nothing in nearly a decade. Certainly, anything was possible after that rain we had last night.

I threw some clothes on, grabbed some boots and started attacking the water before it spread too far.

I cleared the workroom floor out and began vacuuming. Where we've had other water problems that called for multiple loads being pumped out via the wet/dry vac, this one was basically done within one.

I let the floor dry a little, and set up a dehumidifier to get some of the moisture out.

So, what had happened? Was it the rain? The load of laundry, combined with my shower?

I hoped it was just a rare confluence of things and was content to have it all cleaned up, while being able to put some stuff in the garbage. I tried to see the truly bright side of all of this.

And then?

I saw a drop of water from above? Wait. What?

I looked up. A pipe had some water dripping.

I reached up. The pipe was severed.

The pipe...came from...yup...the drain of the shower.

Dammmmmmmmmmmnnnnnnnnn.

Like many of you, we have friends in the right places. With my dad and my brother being in the plumbing industry at one time, they knew plenty of plumbers, electricians (of course, I know one who would be here at a moments notice as well -- right, Mick?), and general handy people.

While I have my "MacGyver" tendencies, in which I can make certain things work, I have zero plumbing/electrical knowledge.

So, a call was placed to Mark, who is simply one of those people who will always give back. He's one of those people who has standards and if you need him, he's there.

Still, there was no answer on his phone.

I went back to going about cleaning up the mess when I looked out of the garage and saw a motorcycle slowing up near the driveway.

"Who the...Oh...it's Mark."

He walked in and I explained in my layman's terms.

He muttered an "uh oh" but quickly thought about how to at least fix things temporarily.

Then he noticed a piece of pipe nearby.

"Robbie," he said,"the washer from this is exactly what I need. You saved me. I always know when I come to this house that I'll find something to work with because your dad was great like that."

Within minutes -- literally -- the temporary fix was in place. We talked longer than it took him to fix it.

I smiled at the admiration he had for my dad -- a man who, to my knowledge, he never met.

He'll be back later in the week for a more permanent fix.

But those are the kinds of friends you cherish. "Salt of the Earth," we call them.

Mark had a smoke in the yard as we wrapped up and promptly finished it by putting it out and taking it with him.

Respect.

He got back on his bike and rode away.

See you Friday, Mark.

And thanks.