Your Tax Dollars at Work

Oh, to be a 4 year-old boy and home from school 

when all the action is happening in your very own front yard.  

That was the feeling when the city water crew arrived to repair the leaking water line coming into our water meter.  I was glad to see the crew getting ready to do their job, but I wished the event held the fascination it would have if we had a 4 or 5 year old in the house.  "Mom, can I go out and watch the workmen?"  "Only if you promise to stay on the front porch and not get in their way."  "I promise, I promise with a cherry on top!"  What bragging rights that would give a kid when he told all his neighborhood buddies, "I saw then digging up our front yard with big machines!"

Never-the-less, in the morning we heard the city trucks with their trailers hauling the excavating equipment pull up to our curb.  We hopped quickly into the shower before the water to the house was shut off, dried ourselves and dressed, and then stood in the front doorway to watch the men and their big yellow machines go to work.

There was probing the ground with a long steel rod to locate the problem pipe.  Another worker offloaded his concrete cutting saw on wheels while other crew members started the back hoe and had it idling in the street.  A good chunk of concrete was separated from the rest of the walkway by the saw and then the big machines moved in to pry up the large section of concrete sidewalk and then let it fall repeatedly, trying to get it to break into smaller pieces to be hauled off.  Still, somewhat exciting, even for a 55+ year old kid in the doorway.

We were off to our own appointed places of work as the city crew's repair work was winding down.  When I returned home in the evening, there was a big muddy spot where once the flooded sidewalk was.  A blue ribbon cordoned off the missing walk, presumably preventing any distracted joggers or walkers from falling into the mud pit of 3-4 inches deep and thence extracting a million dollars form our insurance company and/or the city.

A crew of concrete workers returned next week on the morning of Washington's birthday to set the forms and pour a new walkway.  When I came home in the evening, I did a bad thing (so unlike the (mostly) good kid I am); I etched a little message in the not yet dried cement to all who travel on foot and pass along the path in front of my house: 

Enjoy the Journey

No matter what path you may have chosen to travel down,

these chosen pathways often veer in unexpected directions 
or split into bewildering choices.

Looking back over your shoulder, 
the destination may not be the one you originally sought,

but while you have breath in your breast and a solid foot on the earth 

and yet more pathways before you,

Be mindful

and

Enjoy the Journey

The Fix is In

Relieved to discover that the leaking water line at our curb belongs to the city, I gave the city water department a call Monday morning to report that THEY have a leak.  Of course she said. "We'll have somebody come out and check that."  And so they did - 1 week later.

Over the course of the next several days, various workmen came by to spray paint lines and glyphs in various colors on our grass and sidewalk and stuck little colored flags in our lawn.  All subterranean cables, pipes and valves duly noted. 

Once the city did check out the leaking situation, they called and left a message with a reference number for us to use should we desire any additional information.  Sue called them using the return phone number and reference given, only to be asked, "And what is this in regards to?"  
   "Well, based on the reference number, I assumed you had on record that this is a water leak."
   "Did you need some one to come out there?"
   "I don't think so - since we just receive a phone message with this reference number."
   "Before they can do any work, they will have to identify and flag any utilities in the area."
   "That has already been done.  We were wondering when the repair work will be scheduled and whether we will be without water for a little while?"
   "That schedule would be up to the foreman."
   "Has this job (see reference number provided) been scheduled?"
   "No. I don' think so.  May next week?"
   "OK, thanks".

Out on my morning constitutional, I ran into Mr. Toner.  He lives on the corner lot on the other side of the block, but he has the storm drain for our street in front of his house.  I ask, Jim, what are you doing out so early?  Without missing a beat, he gruffly answers (with an implied wink); I'm trying to find out who's damn water is running down my gutter and making this mess.  I tell him gladly, that this damn mess is 'City of Garland water'.  He tells me I am lucky [don't I know it], when he had a water leak in his front yard, it cost him $1,700 to fix it.  I said, nope, not me. This is city water, the city's problem.

One morning before going to work, Sue saw a lone city employee standing on our curb.  She opened the door and asked if today was the day the leak was going to be repaired?  Well, he was expecting to meet a crew here, but I guess they are not going to show.  I'll have to see when we will take on this job.  Have good day.

But wait.  You and your crew will be here someday soon, right?

Yes mam. The fix is in.





   

Oh That Bogged Down, Sinking Feeling

We've all been there.  Maybe more often than we care to admit.  You know, when you get that flash of a thought, "I should take care of that - before it gets worse", right?  Then, you have that regretful conversation a little later, hopefully with only yourself, when you say, "Self: You dunderhead! Why didn't you take care of that when you first thought of it?"  Ah, but painfully and a touch too often the conversation includes someone else (like maybe your wife).  The 'someone else' shakes their head metaphorically once that little ignored hint of trouble becomes a worse problem that demands attention NOW. That's when the conversation ends with an implied, "I told you so".

I joined AARP thinking maybe we could get a break on lodging when we travel, a discount on Denny's Grand Slam B'fast and perhaps some insight on health insurance.  As a result of my AARP membership I was having just such a conversation with myself, all brought on by a one of those numerous pieces of 'junk mail' that arrive oh so frequently.  As a targeted member of AARP, I was offered a chance to get coverage for repair and replacement for any portion of my water and sewer line between the exterior wall of my house and the city's connection.  I looked over the junk mail offer and thought, "Self: you live in an area with extremely notorious swelling and contracting soil.  As a geologist, you know better than most that this soil can and will wreak havoc on your plumbing and foundation. Self, you know several of your neighbors have already had expensive exterior plumbing repair work, it could happen even to you.  Self, I think you should get this coverage."

That was back in the summer that me, myself and I had that little conversation betwixt us. But I stacked that piece of junk mail that piqued my concern in a pile on my desk with an affirming nod, "You know, you should keep that and think about taking care of yourself for what seems inevitable."  So there it sat, getting further buried with each passing on postman.

Of course, as the wife goes out to get the mail, mostly junk mail from AARP, she mentions to me in early February; "Hey, have you noticed that pool of water by our water meter box?"  Yeah, I did.  I was half expecting that to show up some day.  "Hey, did you ever go and get that water line leak coverage you mentioned awhile back?" [crickets]

A growing tide of unease as water bubbles up around our water meter box.
We begin to host many robins who enjoy the bathing and earthworms forced to the surface.

Each succeeding day, the pool of water gets a bit more expansive.  I go and look for that junk mail flier that I think must still be under one of those paper piles on my desk.  I read the cover letter to me, as a "Dear AARP Member"; it says that my coverage will begin 30 days after approval of my application.  Now, I have that sinking, bogged down feeling that I should have acted months ago, but I didn't.  So, maybe, the water leak is slow enough that I can wait out my 30 day probationary period and then get it fixed.  Oh I hope-I hope-I hope. 

The tide rises perceptibly across our front walk.  The robins are loving this.  They are now always in our boggy front yard bathing and eating the earthworms that are forced up by the sodden sod.  For the robins, 'The Corley Drive Birdbath' is the watering hole to meet, greet and eat.

Is it a leak on my side OR on the city's side of the meter connection.  If it is between the street and the meter, the city has to fix it at their expense. The wife say, "What are the odds it is going to be the city's problem?"  I tentatively suggest 50/50?  She looks at me sympathetically.

Finally I just gotta know.  On Sunday morning, I get down on my knees and baptize my two good hands by immersion.  I bail out the meter box, shut off the valve to the house and watch and listen.  I see a slow gurgling and a flow of water filling the iron box.  Oh hallelujah! It does appear the leak is between our meter and the water main in the street.  I feel as if I had just walked through the parted Red Sea on dry land with Moses and the Children of Israel.  Pharaoh's army and our destruction has been cut off by the waters of the Red Sea, I am delivered.  And since I am already on my knees, I give thanks to the Lord no less fervently than did Noah when he left the ark and stepped onto dry land.

Water, water everywhere; but not a drop on my dime - I think.