After a number of bad days feeling quite down I came out of the fog a little today. No major disasters. No screaming.
We live on a property, not a huge one, but its big enough and we rely on rain | tank water. You may recall me saying earlier that I would buy all the water in Australia in order to have my scalding hot pain relieving baths.
My son is also a convert. This child loves food, like really loves food, and he is a baby so cannot speak, yet this evening when I told him he could have a bath during dinner he almost killed himself climbing out of his high chair simultaneously throwing his dinner and skidded his way into the bathroom screaming “battthhhhh”. It was too cute to be angry at him.
He was particularly excited because at the very moment he was skidding across the floorboards like a cartoon character the water carter was on our lawn filling our tanks.
The water situation at our place approached ‘desperate’ seven days ago. Timed showers, no washing, no flushing number ones, babies bathed in buckets – you get it. You see normally our trusty water man comes 24 hours after asking him. 48 at the outside. But when the eastern seaboard of Australia has not had rain for four months, water carters are suddenly busier than mosquitos at a nudist colony.
16 hours a day, two trucks on the go, they had to get to those who had actually run out first. We were just down to sludge, but not actually empty. So after 10 days waiting Husband starting making night runs to the local free water pipe with our 1000L portable tank. In case you are wondering we go through about 5000L a week (not including horses) and we do not waste water, use garden sprinklers or anything like that. So four late night runs by Husband and I still wasnt happy so I bundled up the kids and went for a load myself. How hard could it be?
Husband gave me instructions including that i needed to get the top hole of the tank directly under the overhead pipe as the hose is only just long enough to fit into the tank, and off I went. When I pulled up there was a ute and two men already filling up so I parked up my cruiser and let the kids out to run around.
Whilst we were waiting another two vehicles pulled up and waited in line, all with two men in them. Perhaps this was harder than it looked. So I got chatting to the incumbent pair whose tank was in the tray of their brand new ute.
“Is that a one tonne payload?” I asked as the suspension sagged suspiciously under the nearly full tank.
The two men look at each other.
“I am sure it is” the younger of the pair said and then moved his truck out of the way.
“Geez you are keen with one arm and two kids on your own!” They told me. I suspect they were a little embrassed that all the other locals were men’s doubles and here I was with two kids and one arm.
“We will help you get parked under the pipe and get you going” they said. That was nice of them.
So I put the kids in the back part of the cruiser with the tail gate up pulled the truck around and prepared to back the trailer back under the overhead pipe. I could see the two men were preparing to hide their giggling as women, you know, can’t back trailers.
Except me. I could back a trailer up my own arse if required. You see my father had me backing trailers around obstacles in our yard before I had a licence. Backing is my thing. Although it suddenly occurred to me that backing had not been attempted post injury.
And this particular trailer is a small box trailer, the worst kind. A jacknifing motherphucker. Anyhoo the trick to backing is use your mirrors, to go slow and have very small non radical inputs into the steering wheel. If you are frenetically spinning the wheel from one full lock to the other whilst backing, you are hopeless. Get practising dickhead.
Anyway even though my stupid arm got in the way (as I had a wooden spoon shoved into my sling to help keep my fingers straight) I backed the trailer right under the spout with the precision of a surgeon.
The incumbent pair and all the other men’s doubles were all impressed. I think they wanted to clap. I think if I had of been dressed up for work and not looking like a slob (see photo) they would have. Because you know women, especially women in suits and stilettos, cannot back trailers.
So they hooked me up by turning on the tap and off they went. Funnily enough when you looked at their truck from across the road the suspension looked totally collapsed and the younger of the pair who owned it had a small heart attack.
“Shit, maybe its not a one tonner” he said to his mate. Given how lovely they were I wish them well and hope they made it up the mountain unscathed.
So I filled my tank, loaded my kids into the cruiser and made the journey home. We all enjoyed our little adventure and I accomplished a new task without any issues.
Of course when we got home, literally two minutes after putting the hose into the house tank the water truck barrels down our driveway. Murphy’s Law. Either way i didnt care. WATER! Glorious water. And no doubt it will rain tomorrow :).