A steady drip from the faucet of my kitchen made my day today as I shouted “Alleluyah” during one of the worst snow storms of my entire life.
You see, the pipes had frozen News Year Day in the Year 2018. I called a plumber who advised me to set a space heater pointed at the open doors beneath the sink. He turned the faucet on ever so slightly and said there was nothing more we could do until a there was some sort of thawing.
We’re living through a “bomb cyclone,” a weather pattern that I had never heard of until temperatures in the Philadelphia area dipped to 7 degrees and remained below the 20-degree range for several days. The pizza place two blocks away here in Conshohocken closed when its pipes froze and I heard so many more stories of pipes bursting after such a deep freeze.
The plumber said our pipes might also burst. Hell, the house is some 150 years old. It was the only one the block at one time. There are remnants of an old pot-belly stove in our dining room and I had to fill in what was once a well on the patio just outside of the house.
Things looked bleak and I started to prepare for the worst, wondering how much the storm would eventually destroy my happiness and my peace of mind.
And so it was with much joy this morning when I saw a slight drip warming some unwashed dishes in the sink. I yelled, skipped out of the room and called my son waking him to share the happy moment.
Moments later I called him back after learning the Colonial School District had ordered all schools closed because of a snow day. My son’s five-year-old and seven-year-old dashed out of the house and ran up the backyard steps, playing in the clean fluffy snow, tramping in much of it on their boots as they made their way back into the house.
What a day!
What a storm!
What a life!