When it’s freezing cold in your bathroom in the morning, and you just came out of bed, and it’s weekend, and you’re trying to flush, but there’s not water – you know the builders back in 1937 made some mistake, when putting the cold water pipes in to the outside wall without insulation and you will realize: The water pipes are frozen.
When you’re lucky, the water is not running down yet the neighbours walls and his floors will not yet be soaked.
You will change your plans. You will not go bag snuggle deep in your still warm blanked and cuddle up with the kids. You will not snooze a bit longer or read the book you so want to finish. – No.
You tuck an old jumper around your shoulders, climb up to the attic, rummage through some dusty cardboard boxes and pull the fan heater out.
The noise woke up everyone, the youngest is excited: “Frozen, really?!” he smiles sniffing adventure. Your father and partner are checking meantime the entire house to see, who still has water and who hasn’t. Soon after you’re realizing, that you’re the only one on the dry. The oldest one complains when you sent him to the neighbour to get some water. The fan heater starts to do his job and the pipe turns piping hot.
Only: it will take some time until the – now probably boiling – water melted all the ice down there in the pipe in the wall. This pipe in the wall leading the precious wet in to your apartment. Slowly slowly the dripping starts. Flushing with buckets of water is not fun. The kettle goes off, the tea is ready.
Finally you’ll start giving in to your faith, bless God that he invented central heating running water and that you do not have to follow your German ancestors and dig ice holes in winterly wasteland lakes regularily. – Later, just when you gave up, waiting patiently and sitting at the water-free breakfast table, the tap in the bathroom goes, spitting, spattering swishing ans spatting. Water. It’s back. Have a great Sunday.
Image from Collier’s Magazine, March 3, 1896. Via Lake Erie Winds.