Meanwhile, a few days before I went off for my Excellent Adventure in Scotland and England, I got a call from my lovely tenant at the Barn, my father's house in Massachusetts (of which I am now the owner). There had been a storm a few days before, and now the faucets at the house were running black sludge. Sigh. And of course, nothing gets done quickly: before repairs could be made (or their scope even suggested) the water had to be tested for bacteria (no one explained to me exactly =why= this had to happen). So this morning I get to call Culligan, who ran the tests, and the well guy, and get some answers. And then give (doubtless highly expensive) orders to have the repairs made. It is possible that, in order to do some of these repairs, I'll have to go back and move everything out of one of the basement store rooms so that we can tear down the wall to get at the tanks. I am so full of joy about all this, it's choking me up.Update
: looks like we don't need a new well, which would have pushed the whole thing into the realm of the tragic (well, that's hyperbole...but I'd rather be sending money and goods to New Orleans than throwing it, literally, down a hole) to the merely upsetting: $2000 for a new water tank (the old one is going on 45 years old, and not a well tank), and somewhere between $3-$4000 to clean the well and, if necessary, replace the old pump, which is probably nearly as old as the water tank. Drat. And words stronger.