Out of His Faucets Shall Flow Rivers of Living Water

Yes, I have water. In fact, it was working when I went home that seventh day. There's a bleeder hose outside that's been running ever since in order to keep things from freezing again. Wasteful? Absolutely, but then I also don't have to pay for it.

Other things that have happened:

• I realize that I'ven't mentioned that we finally remodeled the Housekeeping office. My lost and found room is a reality. Things are working out great.
• Other work-related news that I've neglected: Tony and Jess have moved to Boulder; now Mary Lou is leaving again, going back to Harmony to be the baker. David took over Cowboy Brad's position, and Robbin is the new Laundry supervisor. The Y's making major departmental overhauls, including merging the Conference and Family Reservations offices, and Housekeeping, Conference and Food Service are all now under the umbrella of Guest Services and a new director.
• I'm able to get home without the use of chains by going the long way around the "neighborhood."
• Went to Ft. Collins for the first time in weeks. It was fantastic to finally get out of Estes for a bit.
• I'm gearing up for another trip to Denver the second weekend of March. It's the Archdiocese's Living the Catholic Faith Conference, and I'm excited to go again this year.

Ooo. 24's on.

Seven Days

That's how long my apartment has been without water.

Friday: Low water pressure in the morning. Left the water running while at work. No water pressure when I got home. Called property manager (PM) at 6:30pm, who said "I'm not going to do anything about it tonight." Spent the night at the apartment.

Saturday: Water dribbling only from tub faucet. Met PM at 3:30pm at house, who said "You should have water about 7 or 8 tonight. No water at 7:00. Spent the night in a Y cabin.

Sunday: PM left message at 3:45pm "You've got water in the kitchen, but not the bathroom. It's a matter of time." Spent the night in a Y cabin with Johnnie and Alvin.

Monday: Spoke to PM at 2:45pm, who said, "You have water now. The reason there was no water in the bathroom is because I forgot to turn on the valve." No apology. Normal water pressure when I got home. At bedtime water dribbling only from bathroom sink faucet. Spent the night at the apartment.

Tuesday: Spoke to PM at 10:15am, who said, "I'll send the plumber over." Spoke to PM's secretary at 3:15pm who said, "The plumber couldn't get up your road, so he'll try again tomorrow." Spent the night at Dennis' house.

Wednesday: Spoke to PM's secretary at 3:45pm, who said, "The city installed a bleed valve. Everything should be fine now." Got car stuck on side of road. Pulled out by neighbor. No water from any faucet when I got home. Checked that all valves were on. Still no water. Left message for PM at home, saying, "There is still no water at the apartment. I hope you have a good night." Spent the night at Dennis' house

Thursday: Day off. Went to Public Works and Zoning departments at town hall. No record of home owner's association for my neighborhood. No one knows who owns road or is responsible for plowing. Have yet to return to apartment to check water. Have yet to hear from PM.

It's been warm the past couple days, so now the road's more slush than ice, but still impassable without chains or four-wheel drive. If I could just get the road plowed, it would solve the lesser of my two problems.

Anyway, it shouldn't be this hard to get the water running at my apartment. And there's not a chance in hell that the PM would let this happen at her own house. I would move in a heartbeat if there was somewhere to go.

Better put the chains on and go check on the apartment. Then it's off to see the PM.

Free at Last, Free at Last

Thank God Almighty. Today I drove my car for the first time in six weeks.

The chains worked, and I was able to get up the road without much trouble. And what did I do to celebrate this momentous occasion? Paid my rent, registered the car, and bought cat litter for emergency traction.

Maybe I should open a bottle of wine.

I am Miserable

I've been bitching to Tonia and the parents; I might as well widen the scope.

This damn snow is unrelenting. It's fallen at least once every week for the last seven. And that cruel mistress Mother Nature takes a day or two and melts the snow during the day than freezes it into a thick slab of ice overnight.

I haven't moved my car yet. I did get snow chains in the mail yesterday; however, I'm afraid that if they don't work and I can't get my car up the road, there's no place for me to put the car. Other than maybe the ditch, which is where I put Tina's truck Sunday afternoon.

It cost me $100 to get the truck pulled out. The guy who did it is the same one who towed away the Malibu, and he also lives on my road. But I got no sympathy--or price break--from him. That's probably how he could afford his four-wheel drive vehicle.

Hopefully February with bring 60 degree weather like last year.

DAMN YOU, EL NINO!

I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE! JESUS, PLEASE STOP DUMPING SNOW ON US!

We got more yesterday. Eight inches at my house. The road's not plowed. Nobody's plowed my driveway since the last snow. I haven't moved the new car in three weeks, except into the garage after my landlady left for Arizona.

Oh, Arizona. How beautiful it must be there. Hell, gimme the 65 degree weather they've got in New England.

I haven't been anywhere but work and Mass, and that's thanks to my good friends Dennis and Gail and Ann. Tina's let me take her truck to Safeway for groceries.

Today the wind is whipping the snow around at 50 mph and creating drifts, some as deep as a foot. There's no use shoveling; it doesn't let up.

And there's a chance of more snow again tonight.

WHAT HAVE WE DONE TO DESERVE THIS, O LORD!

Digging Out

My, my; what a couple of weeks.

First of all, I did in fact purchase a "new" car--a forest green 2000 Buick Regal with leather seats and other luxuries--for only slightly more than the settlement for the Malibu. Unfortunately, my sister thinks this car is as grandmotherly as my former one; Tina, however, thinks it's "sporty."

I haven't moved the car in a week and a half, though, because we've had a little bit of snow. Last week's blizzard delivered two feet and more on the whole eastern part of the state, and just as we had dug out, Estes got an additional two feet dumped on us Thursday.

The thing that's frustrated me the most about these storms is the fact that the road I live on has not been plowed. Ever. So there's two feet of new snow on top of two feet that's been packed down by the people fortunate enough to own four-wheel drive vehicles.

The day after Christmas I contacted the real estate agency that does the property management for my landlady following several fruitless attempts at discussion with Kathy, whose speech was affected by a stroke a few years ago. Apparently, no one knows who is responsible for having the road plowed. I haven't heard back from the realtor, and of course they didn't go to work yesterday or today. I've never been impressed by this agency and this is another reason to add to the list.

You can be sure that I'm going to rain down hellfire. That'll melt the snow.

The Tree Victorious

I had a bit of an accident last Thursday night.

On the way back home from St. Malo, the wind was whipping snow into blinding clouds. It was difficult to see at points, so I was going slower that usual. Coming up past Aspen Lodge is a roadside call box, and for some reason it caught my attention. At the time I wasn't sure why I hadn't really noticed it before--one of those random thoughts that occupy the mind as it periodically wanders during driving.

From there, maybe half a mile up Highway 7, the road begins to snake back and forth through dense pine. There's not much of a shoulder to speak of; the trees huddle close to the road on the east, and the valley slides off to the west. And so, when the wind paused, the snow settled, and I rounded a bend and saw the pine tree stretched across the pavement, I had nowhere to go but straight into it.

I slammed the brakes, which didn't any good, and had what seems like an entire minute to prepare for what was going to happen. And just before impact I cried for help.

I don't remember the crushing of metal--what I think a bugling elk sounds like. I don't remember the windshield breaking. I do remember the powdery smell of the airbag, though I'm sure that I didn't hit it. And also I remembered where the call box was.

Here's what the car looks like:

And this one shows the remaining tree branches better.

I went back to the scene just south of Lily Lake a few days later to find the tree. It wasn't hard; it was in three massive pieces along the roadside. It must have been a foot and a half in diameter and nearly thirty feet tall. Had the trunk been any higher in the air, it would have probably missed the hood and come straight into the windshield.

So today, on the feast of the Immaculate Conception, I thank the Blessed Mother for her protection.

I just wish she'd help me go car shopping.