Dry

It's not a faulty air tank that's causing a lack of water in our house -- it's the well. More specifically, it's the pump. It might be something as simple as a check valve, or it might be the pump itself.

Adding insult to injury, the repairman found that our well head was vandalized at some point. A half-dozen or more rocks had been tossed down the access shaft, making it impossible to simply pull up the pump and fix it -- the head would have to be excavated before any other work could be done.

That's the most demoralizing news I've heard in a long time. We can't justify the expense.

My wife and I discussed the situation this evening, deciding to leave it be -- for now, anyway -- even though the choice chafes us. During the conversation, we also discovered that each of us is in denial, albeit about different things.

She believes that we're a lot closer to being out of here than we actually are. I'm simply resisting a change-of-address.

In any case, ours is a dry house tonight. The inevitable is upon us.

The sooner we're out, the sooner we can begin getting acquainted with our "new normal" across town.