I don’t think I mentioned that we re-sodded and landscaped our front yard this Summer.

When we bought this place a few years ago, there were enough things INSIDE the house we wanted to change, that the outside was necessarily relegated to the status of second-class citizen – much to the dismay of my neighbors. Of course, the rationale that we were busy prettifying the inside was helped along by the fact that I HATE yard-work of any kind.

I tell people: “Hey, I did my time!” Throughout my teenage years we lived in an area that could reasonably be called “the country”, and although we didn’t own a “farm”, there was always plenty of outside work to do on those two-and-a-half acres. Mowing the lawn … the trim … the fence-line … picking up fallen (and trimmed) brush … digging holes … filling-in holes …

So basically, when I grew up, I decided “I’m done”. Which brings us back to the front yard.

The lawn was in pretty bad shape when we bought the place, and with three years of nothing other than (barely) keeping it mowed, there “weren’t nuthin’ but weeds out there”. Which brings us back to the dismay of the neighbors.

Our immediate neighbors – very nice people – have a beautiful lawn. Much time and care has been invested to create a little slice of suburban heaven over there … and the marked difference when compared to our “empty lot/brownfield” look was starting to eat at my conscience. (And then there’s the issue of resale value to consider.)

We happen to know a landscape guy … and after he informed us that we had no “lawn” per se … we bit the bullet and allowed him to (literally) raze the entire front yard. So, this summer, we attained the state of suburban bliss which can only be experienced by the green and greener. Which brings us to water.

About a month after I had spent untold hours and dollars watering the wonderful new lawn into a state of hydroponically-induced nirvana … we received a day of rain. The day after the rain, I noticed a small trickle of water running down the edge of the driveway, and across our treelawn. “Hmmm,” though I, “that rain must’ve been heavier than I thought.”

This would be the WATER EVERYWHERE part.

Two days later, with the water still trickling, it was evident that “the problem is in your set”. A phone call to the city prompted a visit from two amiable municipal types from “Central Services”, who informed me I had a leak. As expected, said leak was in the geographic region known as “customer’s responsibility”.

After calling three plumbers, I finally found one who could come out a WEEK LATER and tend to the problem. They SHUT OFF the water (in preparation for the copious digging about to commence) … meaning no showers, no spaghetti-boiling, and soon, no toilet-flushing.

What was quoted as a five-hour job stretched into eight … and then twelve …

The earth-works expanded to the edge of the house as several tons of tractor-tread crawled mercilessly across my new fescue. Dirt piled higher and higher. The contractors broke their equipment. Three times. Each time I dared to take a look and see how they were doing, I was treated to the sight of two presumably-competent professionals staring down forlornly down into a six-foot-deep hole, scratching their heads and muttering to each other.

I thought about telling them a joke I know about a Gangley wrench, but it didn’t seem like they were in the mood.

They left defeated at the close of the first day … after generously decorating my no-longer-beautiful front yard with yellow caution tape and reassuring me that central services would be back in the morning!

This would be the WATER NOWHERE part.

So now I sit, trying to get some work done in spite of the growing body-odor problem I am battling, and fighting to ignore the urge to visit our three suburban WC’s that do not presently function.

So, let this serve as a cautionary tale. You never really think about how much you NEED water until you don’t have it. I want to wash my hands. I want to be able to pee without having to visit the neighbors. Washing dishes or clothes would also be nice.

I’ve always been a fan of Coleridge. Smart guy.