I spent nearly the whole day in the office yesterday. Writing for Romans is not coming as easily as the Sermon on the Mount. Romans presents the surety of the wrath and judgment of God and shows the true nature of sin in an unsettling way. I recommend the study for anyone.
I don’t know what all transpired with the rest of the family while I was gone for the day on the other side of the door. I skipped lunch but took a snack in the afternoon. At chore time I exited to find the house ready for Sunday.
After supper, I gave the three oldest boys haircuts. Steph gave me mine afterward. Then I tried showering the boys, but the pump would not kick on. It has been getting steadily worse over the past month, and I think it’s time to do something.
The trouble with pump problems is that all of the machinery is located up at the other house. Discovering it does not want to run when I’m sixty seconds into a shower doesn’t give me a good chance for figuring out what’s going on. I hope to look at it tomorrow.
The further trouble with the pump cutting off is that the water pressure drops so low that the on-demand water heater doesn’t have enough volume to evenly or moderately heat, even on the lowest settings. This means the water very quickly rises to 75° C (around 170° F) at which point it trips the safety and shuts the heater off.
So you go from a comfy shower, to scalding, to it dropping to mountain water temperature of somewhere around 10-15° C (around 50° F). That is cold. Shawn does not like cold… or super hot, it turns out. Who’d have thunk it?
To work with the pump, we are letting the water run awhile until we are wettified–or until we reach the color of a well-done lobster–then we shut it off, soap down, turn the water back on, run to the far corner to let the lava rush out, wait for a glacier to follow, then leap under the shower to rinse off as it hits the Goldilocks temperature, ready to dash back out before the shower head begins melting.
I’ve never before had such exciting hygiene rituals.