You Don't Miss the Water 'Til…

For those who have not yet had the good fortune to visit, Little Pup Lodge is located in an area many would consider rural. In other words, it is more than five minutes from the nearest Starbucks. "Rural" also means that we are not on a city water system but rely on a well. That well committed seppuku Saturday, a problem that would have been a mere annoyance in a regular household. But for a guest lodge on Labor Day weekend, it rated somewhere between disaster and catastrophe.

  No, our well  looks nothing like this. We do not live in a Thomas Kinkade painting.

Though none of the staff (Nickie and I) suffer from OCD, we still must wash our hands a few dozen times a day. The Lodge’s kitchen would be termed “snug” by a generous real estate agent­. Since three or more dirty plates makes it look like a frat house on Sunday morning, we do dishes all day long. Then there’s the steady supply of dirty rags and towels that feed back-to-back laundry cycles. All that ground to an arid halt. Fortunately, the Lodge has a crack team of maintenance workers to keep it running when mechanical thingies go south. My brother Jim rounded up the two neighbors and tools were feverishly brandished. We have water again. I love my water.
Jim, Mike and John disagree about which tool the job requires.