Returning home from our whirlwind weekend adventure to parts south had us grumpy and sweaty. Walking through a castle in central Spain during lunchtime heat will do that to you. We were tired and longed for a hot shower to wash the dusty road away.
In Lugo, as in Valencia, we have whole house instant hot water. Or we are supposed to after Diego and crew fixed it for us in the first week in May. But there was no water to be had on Sunday night before falling into bed. Exhausted.
I should have known. This is just like the Christmas we returned from Mexico after ten days, to a flooded basement in the middle of a snow storm. When we go away stuff tends to happen. It’s as if our homes punish us for leaving them behind.
‘A beach in Mexico, huh? Enjoy it, cause I have some fun planned for you upon your return.’
Jeff and I slept as far apart as we could so as to avoid cross contamination. I would have gone in the guest room but it wasn’t made up and I’ve been using it for storage. Needless to say, it was a restless night. Diego got a call from me at the first hour I felt it was reasonable to ring. They came right away. Left. Came back with different guys. Left, again. Finally, they brought a guy who, after many ‘Madre mias’ pulled out some burned wiring and handed it to me.
‘This is the problem.’ Diego told me. As though I needed the translation.
Two hours later and we had hot water. The guys left and Jeff hopped in the shower. Then it was my turn. And you can guess what happened next. No hot water. None. No matter how much I let it run, or how many incantations or curses or threats I uttered. Hot water was not to be had for me. And they had taken all day to fix it. Now, the shop was closed. Jeff looked very afraid in his clean clothes and freshly shaven face as I came down the stairs cursing. And rightly so.
It was another restless night of trying to avoid sleeping with myself. Ick. I awoke and called Diego. They couldn’t come out until the afternoon. I went out to the barn and dug through the camping gear looking for dry shampoo, but to no avail. I was not happy.
When the crew finally turned up in the afternoon, I looked like a madwoman. No amount of brushing would tame my unruly tresses. That nightmare Melide shag haircut didn’t look any better after days of no washing. I tried to stay outside and down wind from everyone. For all our sakes. They got the hot water working in less than an hour and I barely waited until the front door closed behind them, before racing up stairs and claiming what was rightfully mine. It was Tuesday. We’d come home Sunday evening. It’s been hot here. I was owed blessed cleanliness
And we had hot water. For a whole 24 hours. Until we didn’t. I called Diego this morning. Maybe a bit earlier than was strictly kind.
‘Kelli. I think we should replace the whole unit.’
They’ve been out to our house so many times, with so many guys this week – not counting the first week in May. If we can’t keep the water heater producing actual hot water for more than 24 hours at a time, without coaxing by Diego and crew, we need the nuclear option.
Today, the crew spent the day here. Sawing, grinding, pulling, sweating, Madre mia-ing, and generally loathing the cabinet where the devil resides. Jeff is very sure that having it installed inside a cabinet in the kitchen can not possibly be to code. I care, not at all.
Diego just came out carrying spare parts of a new chimney.
Jeff is less than enthusiastic.
‘We are supposed to have a full budget to go with our full reno project plan by tomorrow. Something tells me there is not a chance in hell that is going to happen.’
And he is right. Diego already told me ‘There is going to be a small delay, Kelli’. But I don’t have the heart to tell Jeff. It’s been a long few days. I’ll just toddle out to the barn where the fridge with the cold beer and wine for guests resides. Since our kitchen fridge is currently Barbie Dream House sized. A couple of beers and a good distraction is all that is required. Tonight we will be clean. Tomorrow is a whole other ballgame.