The return of running water.

Hooray hooray, I say, for the return of running (or rather, draining) water! Seriously folks, we have not been able to use our main bathroom sink for TWO MONTHS. Two months. Ridiculous, right? Two months of hand-washing in the tub spigot, of tromping upstairs to brush our teeth (and holy god, finding my disgusting husband's toothbrush in front of the computer). Would you like to hear the tale of how it could possibly take two months to fix a sink? Of course you would.

Way-a-way back in July, in preparation for my sister's family's visit, I decided to finally tackle the slow-drain issue we had occurring in our main bathroom (we have three, but one is in the basement and the other is impossibly tiny and upstairs by the guest room). I am reasonably competent with plumbing matters, it isn't my favorite household task, but I do what needs to be done. So I set about disassembling the drain to clean out what I was sure was a nasty ole' hair clog. While what I encountered was indeed nasty, and hairy, it was not the cause of our blockage. And by the time I realized this, it was too late to delve any further prior to company coming, so we simply marked it out of order.

Now if you've been diligently reading this blog (and who hasn't?) then you know we've had a very busy summer and our poor sink just didn't rate high enough on the list of priorities to get much attention. We did eventually buy a manual auger (a long metal coiled cable with a screwy-lookin' thing on the end that you run down your pipe and then turn the crank to THEORETICALLY grab the clog and pull it out). Once again we met nasty emissions of sludge and slime and gunk, but still no drain. I can't even tell you how many times we dis-and re-assembled the drain-my fingers twinge thinking about it. And the auger-oh how I hate the auger! It twists and yanks, it's heavy, it fights with you and tries to climb back out, it sprays whatever it's collected ALL OVER if you wind it too tightly (I got it in the face last night), it leaves rust marks in coil patterns in the bottom of your tub, it is evil. And it didn't work. Couldn't move the clog.

This weekend was our last attempt. Last ditch effort. Final hoorang. Troy wanted to turn it over to a plumber weeks ago, but I persisted--why give some stranger hundreds of dollars to do a job we could do? We just needed time, and patience, and pants that sit too low. If this didn't work, we'd call in the big guns. It was a close call. In short, after cutting (yes CUTTING!) the pipe OFF with a reciprocating saw, running many manner of objects into and through the whole drainage system, being splattered with MORE yummy disgusting-ness, and finally ramming an extendable broom handle up the d$&% thing to break through the still immovable clog, then reassembling the whole system with the help of some really handle flexible couplings (nifty doo-dads that hold to ends of pipe together with a thick rubber tube and hose-clamps), WE HAVE DRAINAGE!!! WE HAVE REJOINED THE MODERN ERA OF INDOOR PLUMBING! HOORAY!

And let me say how cool I felt walking into McClendon's Hardware, by myself (which usually elicits odd questioning looks from old men and LOTS of "can I help you find something?" from employees), in my ratty best project clothes, covered in stains, smelling of decades old plumbing rot, and heading straight for the pipe department to get another coupling. Not one person asked if I needed assistance. Not one old man questioned my presence. Today, I was one of them.

Still not sure how I feel about that. But if it means I can use my bathroom sink, it must be good. Very, very good.