Friday, January 27, 2006

Even Little Leaks Grow

Tis true. Our adorable little drip-drip from the bathtub spout has grown up. It has gone from the cute, cliche tiny drip of "aren't old houses charming and so much character?", to, well, basically Niagara Falls. It is now a gushing stream that you could easily take a bath in. I read an article today in National Geograpic about the shortage of water in the Serengeti region in Africa, and felt immensely guilty. We could probably have watered an entire herd of wildebeast and a few lions with all the water that has been wasted. This drip sounds like the Falls too, as it can be heard anywhere in the house now, even with the bathroom door closed, as Bill has pointed out numerous times. And speaking of Bill, this guy would never have made it through the Chinese water torture (didn't that have to do with water dripping?). He must put as much of a sound barrier between himself and the drip as possible. Last night, with the bathroom door and the bedroom door firmly closed, he could still hear the water. So, despite the fact that it is relatively cold inside and out, we had a tower fan humming to us all night. Bill finally couldn't hear the drip any longer, and I'm sure my sore throat from the cold breeze on my face will go away. Having the bathroom door closed at all times - Bill's mandate - has brought with it certain interesting aspects as well. You see, the leak is from the hot water faucet, not the cold. So it creates a kind of tropical environment in the bathroom, which is most unusual. It is constantly humid and warm, and the mirror slightly steamed over. Our bath towels don't dry out and my bathrobe is always damp when I put in on in the morning. The toilet paper is getting soggy. But hey, on the bright side, my ivy is thriving. I think I may move all of my houseplants into the bathroom and use it as a kind of mini-conservatory. The handyman is supposed to come tomorrow, and hopefully that will restore our bathroom to its normal arid climate. A few days ago, while wrapped in a hug from Bill, he kissed my head and said, "I can't WAIT for Saturday!". I looked up at him and smiled, "Why's that?", I asked, expecting some romantic banter. "Because," he said, his eyes full with feeling, "then the leak will be fixed".

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

That is pretty funny. You always did like it cold though. Remember our days in the grayson dorms 40 or 50 outside and you opening the window for some "fresh air?" Oh, and I do remember you doing the same thing when I visited you in Chicago but it is MUCH colder there. Haha, the good ol' day, how I miss them.

Sarah said...

Hehe! I forgot about that. I guess I am still kind of like that. Not so much a cold fetish, but it's the whole "fresh air" thing. You can imagine my relief when I get off a long overseas flight; breathing the same stale air that everyone else had breathed, sneezed and coughed in for hours - and I can't even open a window! :)