Installing the new kitchen faucet wasn’t
the hard part. Removing the old faucet
that came with the house, built in 2002,
was a killer! You don’t believe in heaven
or hell? How about demons? How about
an old oozing nasty copper and plastic
faucet with me on one end and all
hell pulling on the other end? I was
breathing hard and sweating away
under the sink when I heard a question
faintly in the distance. Hard to hear
from the abyss under the sink.
“How are you doing?”
I was on my back. The small wrench
fell out of my hand and bounced off
of my desk lamp that I was using
as a light source under the sink. It
was dark and I couldn’t see. But I
could hear the drip of water from
somewhere. I grunted and groaned;
and my answer was less than loving,
“How do you think I’m doing?”
A drip turning into a slow flow. But
I already turned the hot and cold water
off. The RO system, too. I was looking
at a closed cold water valve oozing
water when I heard something about,
“…leaving to run errands.” (Oops, that
will be my next repair!) I put a mixing
bowl under the leak and a fresh light
bulb in my desk lamp. Again on my
back, I stared up at the fifteen-year-old
fittings. Three nuts to take off were
staring back at me. They were almost
out of sight; certainly out of reach. My
back and everything else was killing me.
I took the left door off and put a garden
kneeling pad under me. I was staring at
the ancient fasteners causing me grief
listening to the drip, drip, drip turn into
a continuous run. Then it hit me! Maybe
I won’t have to call a plumber after all.
Sometime in the last century, I bought
one of those use-once-and-forget-
about-it tools. Did I still have it? Can
I remember what it looks like? I had
more tools when we lived in Indiana.
Before the move here. My tool box
sits on the garage floor between the
wall and my left rear tire. I opened the
garage door so I could get to it. I took
out the top tray and there it was. A gift
from heaven. See there is a God.
I had to play with it a bit to remember
how to grab the nut and turn it! (Oops!
time to change mixing bowls.)
Then under the sink again on my
back. I started to unscrew the large main
center nut down four inches of threading
little by little in this close space. As I
struggled working the tool, I wondered,
“Did she leave before or after I brought
in the long-handled tree trimming sheers?”
Would you believe it? It took me an hour
or so to clean out under the sink, move
part of the RO system out of the way, and
remove the demon faucet. (Aw, c’mon,
you know what I mean! Look under your
own kitchen sink!) But it only took twenty
minutes to put in the new one!
Heck of a way to spend the Fourth of July!
Poet, Writer, US Army (Retired)
I dreamed of writing when I was a youngster. The love of books and writing may have helped to dull the pain of severe sexual abuse as I was sexually abused by two men at my father’s place of work from age 8 to 12 or so. I learned about this for the first time when I was 50 years old. So, as a boy, reading was the only place I had to go to. My fantasy world was better and safer than my real world. I loved reading and writing.
Reading books and writing poetry are a joy to me still and are an important part of my life. (See my About Me page on my blog for the complete profile.)