However, my town has an issue with it. So much so, that they sent me a postcard informing me that we needed to have a little chat about my low water usage.
This thought provoking message was waiting in my mailbox when I arrived at The House on the Hill Friday night after a long day at work.
Of course, it was perfectly timed so that I would have to fret about it all weekend as City Hall was closed until Monday morning.
What in the world was this about?
This is America.
My forefathers fought and won the Revolutionary War to ensure that no one could ever tell me how much water to use.
That’s freedom, Modern Philosophers.
I know the Constitution grants me the right to use water as I see fit.
I ruminated on it all weekend and then decided to do something to up my water usage before I got into serious trouble with “the man”.
I hooked up my hose and watered every lawn on my block.
Then I washed all my neighbors’ laundry until my washing machine was on the verge of exploding. I didn’t dry any of it, though. The town didn’t send me a postcard about my low use of electricity, so I just dumped the soaking wet laundry on my neighbors’ porches and let them decide what to do next.
Then I emptied the pool and filled it again.
After that, I drank thirty-two gallons of water. I felt a bit bloated and had to use the toilet far too often, but it had to be done.
In reality, I did none of these things.
On Monday morning, I called City Hall to find out why they had a problem with my conserving water. After all, wasn’t that a good thing?
I got some mumbo jumbo about how they just wanted to check the inside meter to make sure a wire wasn’t loose. And while they were at it, they were hoping they could install a new, high tech water meter.
So that was the scam. How much was this little doohickey going to cost me?
Apparently, it was free. And if I was available on Tuesday afternoon, someone could be at The House on the Hill to install it.
I get to leave work early on a gorgeous May afternoon? Sign me up!
Truth be told, I did have have some justification for being freaked out about a possible issue with my water bill.
When I was going through my divorce and trying to keep a roof over my head on just my income, I got an almost $900 water bill.
In all my stress and meltdowns, I hadn’t noticed that the toilet in the seldom used upstairs bathroom had been running.
Where was my postcard about that, City Hall???
J had cleaned out our joint bank account, and I was living paycheck to paycheck. I did not have $900 stuffed under the mattress for water related emergencies.
But I did have the line of credit I had opened to pay off my Divorce Tax, so I wrote a check on that account and put myself even further into debt.
When The Sweet Irish Girl visited, she’d take showers that latest three months. I was sure the water bill would skyrocket.
It never did, though.
Every winter, I debate about leaving the water running at a trickle to avoid frozen pipes when it gets super cold. I eventually relent and let it run, but I worry until the next water bill arrives.
It’s never been above the minimum, though.
Add to that, the fact that I nearly drowned twice as a kid, and it leaves me with a serious fear of water.
Let’s just say, it was a major relief when the man from the Water Department told me that the number on the inside meter matched the number on the outside one.
There was no problem with my water usage, other than that the amount I use every three months is considered low by neighborhood standards.
Plus, I got a new water meter out of the deal.
The House on the Hill is back to being a dry household. Well, at least in the eyes of my town’s Water Department…