It’s Raining in the Barn

Today my carpet extractor broke for the second time in a week. As a result, I had a very physical afternoon at work scrubbing vehicle carpets by hand with a brush. Before I got done working I’d put on 12,000 steps, while part of my day was stationary. 

I’m sharing a vehicle with our teenage daughter, and she works nights. I didn’t quite get all my work done today, as I was slowed down by the equipment failure. I swung into the grocery store and grabbed my needed dinner ingredients on my way home.

I decided to unload the dishwasher and reload it before I’d sit for an afternoon coffee. Upon arriving at home, I saw there was recycling to be taken out. The chickens also needed water. There’s laundry piling up. Always. 

Silas was watching TV. I asked him to take out the recycling and water the chickens. He  loudly argues that he doesn’t want to collect the eggs. 

Please just water the poultry. Please. I’m tired. I’m under caffeinated. I’m over 40. I’m out of foxes and ducks.

My butt hits the chair. Ahh. 90 seconds later he comes in the house. “Mom I need you to come out here.”

“Silas. I swear. What?”

“Umm, there’s like water. In the barn. Lots of water. It’s like raining in the barn.”

I put on shoes. I get halfway to the barn and I’m fuming. The door is shut. How can he see this alleged rain storm if the door is closed? This kid. He’s getting a whooping. If he’s messing around I’m going to lose it. 

I get 10 feet from the barn. I can hear it. I break into a run. I push the door in. The water. It’s everywhere. Gallons surging from a ruptured pipe cap. Pouring directly into the power cord keeping the heat tape warm. 

Crap. I try to shut off the main power. We’re up. We’re down. It won’t shut off. I snap off every breaker. Still water gushes. There’s 3” standing in the cleaner track. My tennis shoes are soaked. Why didn’t I put on rubber boots?! I’ll never know.

“Allen!” I scream into the phone, undoubtedly alarming all his coworkers within a 2 block radius, “We’ve got a broken pipe! I need you home! Now!”

I run to the other barn. I flip the breaker marked ‘well pump’ simultaneously praying this is the one. 

It’s not.

Water continues to rush. It’s everywhere. In some spots on the concrete it’s just thin enough to freeze into a skating rink. 

Allen makes it home in under 10 minutes. I’m not sure how fast he drove, but I’d bet it wasn’t the speed limit. 

He gets the main barn breaker to shut off. Water continues. 

He runs—faster than he’s ever ran—to the basement. He shuts off the next well pump. 

Water continues.

Another minute goes by.

The distance from the house to the barn is nearly a football field—or at least it feels that way. 

The water slows. 

Finally. 

Slower. 

Slower. 

Off. 

A pipe that runs to the barns fire suppression system burst after its heat tape failed. 

When I left for work this morning, I knew my chickens needed water. I meant to text my kids to fill it. I forgot. Praise God. The pipe had likely burst minutes before Silas went into that barn. Judging by the water accumulation in the 15 minutes we spent trying to find that spigots pump shut off, a day would’ve done major damage to the 100 year old structure. 

The pipe was cut, capped and repaired in under an hour. 

My nerves are frazzled. I rally. I make dinner. We gather at our table. We are safe, dry, clothed and soon to be fed. We have running water and the complications that go along with it.

At the dinner table, every night, whether the day deserves it or not, we do 3 Positives. 

Today, mine: 

The extractor is kaput, but the work continues. 

The pipe burst, but we found it quickly and fixed it cheaply. No damage was done. 

This table with these people.