Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Cool Clear Water


The lyrics of that old cowboy song came to mind today as I finished paying the plumber who installed our new water heater. It was the second major expenditure involving water treatment for my household in the last two weeks. The first was even more costly, the installation of a water softener to remove the rocks and rust from our well water. The combined cost of the two treatment systems totaled about the same amount as did the entire plumbing system installed in our then-new house nearly 11 years ago. My, how times have changed.

                   

I don’t want to be seen as complaining about our water even though I am. I am fortunate to live in an area where the water table is only a few feet deep, 12 to be exact, according to the well driller who installed our well. Sadly, he didn’t stop drilling at that depth. He mumbled something about water quality and Health Department regulations and happily continued drilling for another three days until he had passed through two layers of clay and reached the deepest part of my wallet. I well remember that day when he proudly announced that my well was complete and folded up his drilling rig as I shook out the few remaining bills in my wallet.

 

I have since learned that deep wells like mine that pull water from the bedrock under our sandy soil are more likely to contain dissolved rocks and soluble iron than shallow wells. “Hard water,” the man who tested our water said before he showed me the actual test data. The chart showed he was wrong, it was actually listed as ‘extremely hard’. I soon came to learn that the difference between hard and extremely hard was several hundred dollars in treatment costs. As I contemplated the unexpected thrust into my budget, I looked longingly at my pond and swamp that contains only soft water, flowing in great quantities into my soil and into the river for the enjoyment of fish, muskrats, beaver, and, of course, those several million bugs. Why is it that the Health Dept. says the bugs get better water than me?

 

The Health Dept. had told me earlier that I was required to plug my old shallow well that had furnished water for my cottage before the new well. “Its for safety,” they said, as they handed over the list of regulations that forbade a shallow well and the required plugging of same. I learned the rest of the story sometime later when I attended a conference that included a presentation by a water quality expert. She explained that the regulation about plugging old wells stems from the important requirement that our local aquifers remain clean and free of pollutants. Of course, I thought. Then she told the rest of the story; over time, officals have learned that many homeowners use abandoned well holes as their private disposal site for any oils or chemicals they no longer want around their homes, thus potenially polluting underground water sources for miles around the offender. Yikes! No wonder we need regulations.

 

Now I have softened water and a smoothly functioning water heater that doesn’t go HURRRMPPP in the night, as it complains about build-up of lime on its walls and threatens to explode. Now I have cool, clear water that is gently warmed by our new heater that may work at least as long as the last one without going bump in the night.

 

Of course, not everything is rosy. The new softened water doesn’t taste as good as my old well water, nor do cooked foods seem the same. Even our morning coffee seems rather blasé compared to the old. Taking a shower is a more of a challenge as everything seems slippery. These differences are all temporary according to the softener salesman who said all these things will pass over time and we’ll end up liking water without rocks in it better than the old stuff. Besides, it seems to me it is the right of every God-fearing American to have a cocktail in the evening without ‘floaties’ swimming in the drink like we used to get from our well water ice cubes.

 

I hope he is right. He was a good salesman and a fine American. In fact, as he left our house with our check in hand  I heard him singing:

 

Keep a-movin' Dan,
don't you listen to him Dan,
He's a devil not a man
and he spreads the burning sand with water,
Dan can you see that big, green tree
where the water's running free
and it's waiting there for you and me,
water, cool, clear, water”