Sinkless

The plumber came to fix the sink. He snaked both sinks and the tub. Everything worked when he left.

A day and a half later, the siding between the second floor and first floor kitchens was brown and there was a large pool of murky water in the basement. This was not good.

The plumber came to check the pipes. Apparently, the original pipes did not take kindly to the power snakes. The leak was in the wall somewhere.

Every time a fixer-upper-person comes to fix something on the house, he tells us, You know, that's all the original such and such. We know, we know. It's an old house so having so much original stuff in it to this day is quite impressive.

Not impressive is not having a kitchen sink. The first thing I did was tape a plastic bag across the faucet and sink in the kitchen so that neither me nor Eddie mindlessly used it. He said that was a good idea because as soon as he came home, he would have used it. Me too. You don't realize how much you use your kitchen sink until you don't have one.

The plumber suggested I look on the bright side. I could haul in water from the bathroom down the hall instead of having to go out to the stream for it. Good point, plumber.

My mom asked if we wanted a bucket to put our dirty dishes in so we could carry them to the bathroom to wash. No, mom, I do not want a bucket. Eddie told me later that I should have said yes to the bucket and then asked her for a rope so we could lower the bucket down to the first floor for her to wash them for us and then we could lug them back up. Funny one, that Eddie is.

I came up with a plan:

1. Use paper plates.

2. Use plastic utensils--this part of the plan has been scratched because we were going to reuse the plastic utensils a few times and then wound up washing them, which defeated the purpose of having less to wash and also negated the idea of "disposable."

3. Reuse glasses. We do this, or at least attempt to, anyway, so we have less to wash.

4. Once a day, pile everything into the drying rack, take it downstairs, wash everything in my parents' kitchen sink, and then bring it back up.

We also cooked down there because we were cooking meat and I didn't want to have to keep going to the bathroom to rinse my hands every time I touched the meat.

The major drawback of not having the sink is when I've awoken with a case of extreme heartburn and I'm still half asleep and I'm roaming around the house, trying to figure out how to get cold water. I don't get heartburn often, but of course it happened at the least convenient time.

Fingers crossed--the experts are coming this week. Hopefully, they don't have to break a whole lot of walls open. The walls? They're original you know.