1:30 AM, this morning
I wake with that middle-of-the-night something-is-wrong alarm, my heart thrumming.
Me (whisper): "If you turned off the sprinklers, why do I hear something running?"
Hubby (sleepy whisper back): "I was just going to ask you that..."
I push out of bed, pad over to the sprinkler control, flip on the horrible blinding light. It is set to OFF. Yet water is clearly running, loud, under my feet. This is Bad. I inform hubby of Badness. He comes out rubbing his eyes and turns the sprinkler on...it makes nasty glugging broken noises...and then off. Still water running.
Me (knowing this is probably a recurrence of the Sprinkler Breakage we had the first week we moved in, but not wanting to admit it): "Do you think we need to go outside and check?"
Hubby: "Sounds like recurrence of Sprinkler Breakage. We'd better."
We fumble around for flashlights and appropriate clothing for outside at...now 1:40 AM. We can hear the water sploshing from around the house...it's pouring up from the sprinkler main, flooding down into our crawlspace. Hubby opens the crawlspace door, and I stare down into it. I am the only one who can fit in there. To fit in there I must contort my body like a gymnast between a little narrow dirty usually spider-infested opening, in the dark, this time landing in I'm-not-sure-how-deep water. But I have to go in there to turn the sprinkler main off. I look at my sandals.
Hubby: "You'd better take those off."
Me: *sigh*
I take them off. I maneuver myself barefoot into the obscenely small opening, getting my butt all wet. I feel for the water depth with my feet--it's mid-calf. And COLD. But it's going to get deeper the longer I wait.
I jump in and try not to shriek. It's not just cold. Our water comes from snowmelt--it's like jumping into a snowbank. Calf deep, barefoot. In the middle of the night.
I slosh over and turn the lever, and thankfully the water stops. Then I just have to pry myself out--which is harder, somehow; I actually got stuck for a minute--and traipse back to the house, carrying my sandals, wet and muddy.
It took half an hour before my legs were warm.
2:15 AM
Me (wide awake in bed, staring at the ceiling): "Well, that was interesting."
4 comments:
OMG. I can't believe you went under there. At first I'm thinking - snakes! No, Susan, step away from the snake infested water! But how relieved I am to read the water is freezing and snakes don't like freezing cold nothin'. Whew.
My hat is off to your bravery!!
Kelly: I have to go under there several times a year...just usually not in water and at night. Fortunately we don't have too many snakes around here--there's an advantage to living somewhere that gets REALLY cold. :)
Suze,
I have to admit that I giggled a little.
Sorry about your sprinkler though. That won't be cheap. :-(
--Rosie
I got clausterphobic just READING this post. Yikes! We've had the sprinkler breakage befor though, so I know it's no fun. Sorry.
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