Running Hot Water is for Wusses

Well, not really. But saying that makes me feel better.

Our hot water heater died sometime between 11:30 Tuesday night (when I got my shower) and 4:15 Wednesday morning, when my husband got up and tried to take a shower before work. There's nothing quite like freezing water pulled up from a well to wake you up quickly. There's also nothing quite like freezing water pulled up from a well to make your husband yip in a really funny manner.

I have come to the conclusion that difficult things can sometimes seem less...epic...if one has a full belly. Or if one ingests a lot of chocolate. Sometimes both. So, after downing some breakfast (only!), I was a good hot water heater owner and read the handy dandy instruction manual that came with the water heater, and did all the trouble-shooting suggestions listed on the page. (By the way, did you know that each month you're apparently supposed to release a few gallons of water out of the top "pressure relief valve", and also drain a few quarts from the bottom if you have very hard water to keep sediment from building up in the tank? I sure didn't.)

After fiddling with the breakers, hitting the "reset" button, and checking both temperature settings (our heater has two), I called the manufacturer who suggested I do the same things I'd already done. Then they said to call a repair person, because this is going to take some work -- they can ship parts to me via 3-day mail once we determine what's going on, but also that there is a good chance that it will need to be replaced. It was at this point that the chocolate came into play. This model apparently has been known to "tank" after the warranty has expired, but before 10 years is up. Yeah, I know. "Tank". I went there. Our water heater was installed January of 2004.

We'll find out more hopefully tomorrow, after we get paid and get someone out here to look at the darned thing.

In the meantime, I'm (semi) pioneering it. We have the benefit of running water, at least, so no hiking down to the "crik" that's a mile away and hauling it back. The water pumped out of our ground seems to be a direct line from, oh, Siberia, so we have to heat it on the cooking stove or the woodstove before attempting some mundane housekeeping. I have figured out that:

Dishes take 3 boiling tea kettles of water plus some cold from the well, one kettle per side of the sink and the third split between the two to "refresh" the heat halfway through the job. And you have to get those dishes done pretty quickly.

Baths require boiling a tea kettle, a 4-qt dutch oven, and a gigantazoid 30(?)-quart stock pot full of boiling water for a nice, warm bath -- plus a little cold well water to temper it. Not hot, but at least warm enough to get the job done. Beats the alternative, which is shivering hard enough to knock the soap off the ledge while trying to grab it. Just sayin'.

And yeah, I do it the old-fashioned way of plunking one kiddo in the tub, giving them a quick scrub, and then plunking the next one in right afterward. Probably not a good practice to do long-term because of germies, but it gets the job done temporarily. I can't reheat water right away because the arctic tundra water coming straight out of the faucet will warp the hot pans if I don't let the pans cool down first, and then I have to warm the water to room temperature. I can't put the pots straight onto the heat after filling them for the same reason -- not even the cast iron.

This is all a little weird, but I'm finding my rhythm with it (this is water heaterless day #2) and it's really not that hard. I do have an appreciation for all those pioneer ladies that did this day in and day out, though. It takes some serious timing to get everything done in a day! At least I don't have to do laundry this way; I always use cold water in my machine anyway.

So, we're kind of roughing it. With electricity and running water. Heh. It is actually interesting, as long as it's a short-term issue. I'm remembering all my Little House on the Prairie books, and other historical books from the Early American period, and am fascinated by this. Again, temporarily.

I do love me a hot shower.

Pioneeringly yours,
~ J