Late yesterday afternoon I realized the well pump wasn't working. The lowering pressure meant water was slowing to a trickle coming into the house. That's bad enough. But our well also provides water to the church. If we didn't get this fixed, it would be difficult to expect people to come to church when you couldn't provide the basic necessities like flushing toilets. And coffee.
But it was Saturday afternoon, and time was running short. So I called Doug, the building and grounds guy for the church, and a man able to fix just about anything. No luck. So I called the church chair, just to give him something to panic about. Turns out he knew where Doug was. "He's out in his backyard on the tractor." That's the thing about small communities. Somebody always knows where to find the person you're looking for.
I drove to Doug's and went around the back, where I ran into Doug's lovely wife. Which afforded us time for a brief how-do-you-do. She pointed me over to the neighbor's yard, so I headed that way. Where I ran into the neighbor. I hadn't seen him since last year, when I was called over late at night after he had come home to find his father dead in the backyard. So we had a nice chance to catch up, and I was glad to hear how he was keeping his life together and making meaning of his father's death. And sad to hear that his dog is dying.
Finally Doug came around the corner; the problem was explained, he grabbed some tools, and back to our place we came. But not before I had the chance to play a couple of banjos that Dorene had been telling me about. Anyway, Doug got right to work and diagnosed the problem, but didn't have the parts to fix it. We called, but Home Depot didn't have the parts either. So he figured he'd go cannibalize the parts from his own well and see if that got our pump working. First, though, Ron showed up for dinner, so he got in on the conversation. And Megan showed up as well (for dinner), so she got to hear the whole story and to meet Doug as well.
Doug took off and I got to charring meat on the barbecue. Then Gene (the aforementioned chair), his wife, and the little girl they babysit showed up to get in on the action. We had a wonderful conversation before Doug came back. Then Gene and I watched Doug install the new power supply. Power was restored and we all rejoiced at the hum that marked the pump kicking back into action. Disaster averted, we had water, and church could go on.
For the record, all that means that just because the well pump went out, I got to spend quality time with Doug, Dorene, Steve, Bonnie, Gene, and Amber. And Doug got to spend quality time with Gene and Ron and I. Etcetera. It turned into a regular social event.
Oh, and this. Doug called the well pump repairpeople from his house. Their tech called him back. Doug described the part, and the repairman said "yep, I got one of those." So Doug said he'd run up to Port Orchard (40 miles round trip) to pick it up. But the repairman offered to bring it by. So they started exchanging locations. Turns out the repairman lives all of 2 miles from Doug, and was only 3 miles from home. So faster than you can say "How about that?" the guy got to Doug's house and dropped off the part. So nothing had to be cannibalized, and we got a brand-new part without having to drive 40 miles on a late Saturday afternoon.
That's why I like living out in the woods.