No Water .....

The water died, last night. Pretty much 'Just like that'. Did a Tommy Cooper on me. I hit the tap and nothing came out.

Not sure what to make of it. Better make something of it, I suppose? I'll need five gallons or so, just to keep the horses alive. Their water having gone dry a couple of days or so back. I presumed that was due to the feed pipe having frozen.

Already made a note to myself to find some of that foamy stuff one lags pipes with. I don't fancy another bout of crawling, on my hands and knees, dragging a five gallon Jerry Can of water down there.

Oh yeah. I've been doing that already. Had to put my knee pads and gloves on and crawl about thirty yards, dragging a fucking bottle of water for them. Nothing else for it. Ice, ye see? I go over on that shit and smash something; What happens?

Reach into my top pocket and 'Call Someone'. Work it out: 'Ditch has called. He's flat out, in his compound. Broken something and is laying in the ice. Dogs are loose. We know those fuckers. They'll be on the defensive. Have to shoot them to get at him.'

I Think Not! Sooner fucking lay there and die than listen to any cunt blowing my fucking Dogs away as they try to stand guard over me!

That shouldn't be about to happen though. I just have no water. Bastard of a situation. Had to make my bit of gravy with beer, tonight. 'Fed' Chain Dog a chunk of ice, taken from Rats bowl, outside. Just about to go out and fetch what ever's left in that bowl, to see them through the 'night'. Till I pry myself out of bed later on. And figure out what to do next.

Burst pipe, I imagine? Water expands as it turns to ice, doesn't it? Thaws, and then pisses out of the split it's made? And my water comes from a local reservoir of some sort. Underground well, I shouldn't wonder.

I believe Noel's responsible for our water here. Haven't got his number. Have to ring Pat' then. See what he knows. If his phone's turned off? Have to walk up there. Lock the Dogs in and try to figure out how food can be slung to them, lest I slip on the ice out there and end up in Sligo.

Brian Plummer could have wrote similar to this, of course. I've never read his " Cottage At The End Of The ..... ", which ever it was. But, I feel a sense of understanding. How it's everyone's dream to live, alone, in the middle of no where. Just you and ye Dogs.

'Tis, to be honest with ye. I wouldn't change my life style for ..... well; Life! But, it has its moments. Like when the damn tap runs dry and ye have nowhere else to go.