Friday, 28 July 2017

Water, water

I turned on the tap nonchalantly, thoughts of preparing dinner and watering the plants on my mind. The tap spat, coughed, heaved and stopped. I turned it on and off again but still no water. Maybe it was just the kitchen, but no, it seemed every tap had ran out of water. We had in fact, ran out of water.

You see, our water lives in a tank under our new house. There are no mains anything up the mountain where we live, except electricity and even that's a bit hit and miss. Being new to the system of having a finite amount of water, I guess it was inevitable that we would run one day run out.

Carlos was called, the water would be with me tomorrow he said. Always tomorrow in Spain.

While waiting we pondered on our dilemma. No shower in the 35 degree heat, no washing of clothes or dishes, the plants began to wilt and the toilets began to smell. Faces and armpits were washed at the stables with a hose while the swimming pool dealt with rest of our grime.

We all decided to go out for dinner, feeling lucky we had that option at all. We cleaned our teeth in mineral water and hoped that Carlos would deliver to us first in the morning.

What a lesson to learn.

And as the rain crashed down this week in a rare summer storm, we delighted that our garden was having a soaking and the tank was refilling with liquid gold from the sky.

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