It's never the utility company's fault

Have you seen this news story? Some poor lady in Washington, who normally uses about 3000 gallons of water during a billing cycle, gets charged for 140,000 gallons of water for one month! The water company says there's nothing wrong with their meter and she must pay the $1181.00 bill. Of course, that's completely ridiculous. You could calculate the amount of water that the supply line to her house can discharge in a month at the local water pressure, running 24 hours a day, and it's probably not 140,000 gallons. But the water company will never admit they're wrong.

I had a little run-in with my local water company last year, nothing this dramatic, but it illustrates how stubborn the utilities can be. In one month, my water usage jumped from less than 2500 gallons to 28,500 gallons. I, of course, filed a protest, and the company replaced the meter and sent it off to be tested. You already know what the results of the testing were. Absolutely nothing wrong with the meter. But, coincidentally, the next month's bill after the meter was replaced was back in our normal range.

Like the lady in the news story, I had a plumber look around the house. No leaks were found. He commented that the crawlspace of my house would have looked like a swimming pool if there was a leak that bad. He was also sure that the line between the meter and the house wasn't leaking. It was during the drought last year, and as the plumber put it, if there were any leaks on the supply line, I would have had some grass growing in my yard, which I certainly didn't. As a visualization of just how much 28,500 gallons of water is, I used the water capacity of the jacuzzi I used to own. It was 6 feet square and the water was about 24 inches deep. It held 225 gallons of water. I would have had to completely fill that jacuzzi over 4 times a day, every day of the month, to use 28,500 gallons.

Let's apply the jacuzzi test to the Washington lady's bill. 140,000 gallons would fill that jacuzzi over 20 times a day, every day, for 30 days. Let's assume that the water pressure and supply line to her house aren't much different than my former home. I remember how long it took to refill the jacuzzi after cleaning it. It would have been impossible to run enough water to fill it 20 times in one 24 hour period.

Now, my erroneous bill was nowhere as high as the Washington lady's bill, but it's the principal of the thing. I wrote the check, grumbling all the time, because it was the only thing I could do. I hope the lady can fight it and win.

New project, same old troubles

I started a new quilt today just for myself. Here's the pattern that's the basis; it's by SuzGuz Designs and is called Boston Commons. I'll be making it larger and adding a border. The fabric is Windham's "A Little Bird Told Me", which I fell in love with and finally had to track down on Ebay because the stores were sold out of the fat quarter bundle. I seldom copy anything directly, but I loved the colors.

On the home front, I walked over to the kitchen counter this evening about 8:00 pm and found a swarm of tiny black ants that weren't there at 7:00 pm when I cut my husband a piece of pie. Honest to goodness, they found a couple of pie crust crumbs on the cabinet and called a few thousand of their closest friends to join them in an hours' span. I have never had so much as one ant in this house in fifteen years. I suppose a queen ant set up her colony near or under my house and the first foraging party got lucky. Now I'll have to call the exterminator to spray all those noxious chemicals around. I pulled out the Black Flag can and routed them for the night, but they're out there.

I would write more this evening but the recurring joint pain I deal with has decided to put my left shoulder out of commission. (That's why I'm on the computer at 1 in the morning. No sleeping tonight. And no typing with two hands either.) So my luck is holding.

I'm expecting the swarm of locusts any day now.

OK, not really a hysterical woman, just a little tired

OK, well, the last few blogs seem a little petty in second reading, but as I replied to Paula, you just want to tell them "Recognize me? I'm the one with the checkbook." I don't know why it's so hard to get anything done right the first time any more.

Like the four wheel alignment that was done on my Subaru recently. I'm sure they did a fine job on the alignment, and it drives great, but the steering wheel is is not straight when the wheels are pointing directly forward. Not a lot, just a smidge, enough to bug the daylights out of you. And to fix it, I will have to drive back to the alignment shop and wait while they get to me (they don't take appointments) and redo the alignment so that the steering wheel is straight (which, by the way is a criterion on alignments. I'm not being stupid here.) Will I do it? Probably not for a couple of degrees off. But they should attend to the details.

Hot water finally

Well, the plumbers returned and weren't particularly nice about it (quote: "People have different preferences on how hot their water is." Yeah, but the operative word here is HOT.) I took umbrage with the concept that I evidently didn't know what hot water was. The first thing out of their mouth was they would adjust the thermostat. I replied that wouldn't you do a little trouble-shooting first? They responded that it was a new heater, why? Like nothing new ever breaks, right? I got a little snippy with them and the scheduling person at their office, but they worked on the heater and it was better - still not as good as the old one.

This morning, I crawled under the house and readjusted the thermostats more and finally have something approaching hot water output. I can't believe getting a new water heater would be this miserable.

The only good thing about this is I have been sewing like mad on the dragonfly to pass the time and assuage my anger!

Well, not exactly hot.....

warm water, maybe. That's what I have now. The plumber replaced the water heater yesterday and now I have 110 degree water from my hot faucet. I didn't even have to mix any cold water with it to shower this morning. I must have a defective element or thermostat on my brand new water heater. They're coming back today to look at it. Already almost $700 out of pocket and it's not done yet. More labor charges to come. Why, oh why, does everything I touch come out like this?

Money money money ......

I crawled under the house with the termite company guy during the yearly inspection and what do I find? The water heater is leaking. So there's more money to be spent this summer. I don't have a clue what it will cost. The worst thing is, the darned water heater is under the house in the crawlspace, so you can't install a regular one, oh no, you have to buy a short squatty one that will fit in a limited headroom area. Rats.

You also can't get a bigger size because its diameter is limited by the width of the crawlspace door, which I found out the last time this happened about 10 years ago. I was hoping to install a larger water heater then to have more hot water capacity, but no such luck.

Boy, it just keeps on this summer. As I told my hair stylist yesterday, I feel like handing over my wallet and saying "Here, take what you want." Wouldn't you think an electric water heater would last more than 11 years? That's the service life we got out of the last two. My mom's gas water heater was installed at least 25 years ago and it's still going strong. What's the difference? Does everyone else get this length of service out of an electric water heater?

The holiday homeowner curse

Well, Thanksgiving has come and gone (and left a pound or two behind, soon to be joined by its Christmas cousins) and, as night follows day, I didn't get through the holiday without something trying to break at the house.

You see, I have a curse on my household. If something is going to break, it will only do it on a national holiday. This curse has followed me through three houses. Septic tank backs up? On December 23, of course. Refrigerator dies? December 24. Washer drain floods the crawlspace? Thanksgiving day. Heat pump dies? New Year's day. Flooded basement? Martin Luther King Day. Air conditioner bites the dust? Labor Day (an anomoly -- the curse likes cold holidays). I have had roof leaks, plumbing leaks, dead cars, dead appliances. This of course in addition to the other annoyances like being sick as a dog with the flu or something very like it the last two Christmases running. Some years I just want to jump straight from Columbus Day to Fat Tuesday and skip all the winter holidays entirely.

I didn't move the car out of the garage from Wednesday morning (turkey pick-up) until Saturday afternoon. We were having Thanksgiving at home and I'm not a crazy woman. By Wednesday afternoon the local talk radio station was reporting two mile long traffic backups on the interstate through town. I was snug at home and very happy to be there. But by Saturday I hoped that the road madness had subsided and needed to run a few errands. So, I loaded my car and hit the garage door opener button. The door glided open smoothly. I pulled out of the garage, fastened my seat belt and tapped the door opener button again.

Nothing.

Irritated, I pushed it again. Maybe the battery was getting weak. The door did a little jerk-jerk-shudder and the light on the front of the opener responded, with its three-quick-blinks signal, meaning that something was keeping the door from closing. Grumbling, I put the car in park, unfastened the seat belt and jumped out of the car to check whether a leaf had blown in and blocked the path of the safety cutoffs at the bottom of the door.

They were clean. Nothing was on the threshold in the path of the beam. The stupid thing just wouldn't work. I hit the button on the wall. Jerk-jerk-shudder-blink. Then nothing. Well, this is just peachy, I thought. I was dressed to go out and wasn't in the mood to drag out the stepladder and diagnose a cranky Sears garage door opener. (And, did I mention that the ceiling in the garage is almost ten feet tall? So it's WAAAAY up there.)

I'll deal with it later, I decided. I'll just unlatch the door from the traveler, lower it by hand, and lock it -- OH RATS! Why won't the garage door lock? The old wooden door had undergone some warping / shrinkage / sagging / whatever and now the lock bars won't align with the holes in the latch. A quick check revealed that the bars are guided at each side by a bracket attached to the door with two screws, one in a hole and the other in a slot. If I take out the screw in the hole, I can slide the bracket on the slotted screw until the bar will align with the latch. A quick trip to the tool box for a screwdriver, and the door is locked. Finally, I'm on my way.

Two hours of TREMENDOUSLY HORRIBLE traffic later, I returned home. So much for subsided road madness. Time to dig out my work clothes and tackle the garage door opener. I cleaned, I lubricated, I dusted, I poked and prodded. Nothing. Jerk-jerk-shudder-blink. This opener is DOA. I decided to at least fix the lock properly, so I got the drill and reinstalled the screws into the guide brackets on each side.

I stared malevolently at the frozen traveler on the overhead bar and pecked petulantly at the control button. Didn't help, just made me feel better. Well, at least the door was disconnected and locked. I could use the side door to go in and out, and leave the car in the driveway until Sears sent a repairman. . .

Suddenly, the opener shuddered to life and the traveler glided down the rail and clicked into the catch on the door. What the heck? I knew it was nothing I had done, but don't look a gift horse in the mouth etc. etc., so I unlocked the door and grabbed my car keys so I could put the Subaru safely in the garage. Except now it won't work again.

Time to take a break. I went into the kitchen and got a Diet Rite, my drug of choice. Leaning on the counter, I considered what could be wrong. Whatever it was, I probably couldn't fix it. I returned to the garage, deciding to disconnect the door again, hoist it by hand and put the car in from the impending rain. Just for giggles, I gave the opener another push. AND IT OPENED. And closed again. And opened again. Just like it should. Just like it had never stopped working.

It's now Monday and the garage door opener is still fine. It's just playing with my head.

To quote Charlie Brown, "I can't stand it. I just can't stand it."