Effects of winter
Monday, 5 February 2007 | 22:08
Photo: digiteyesed.com
What happens when the temperature doesn’t rise above -20 in weeks? And one lives in a nearly hundred year-old house? One’s house pipes freeze. Actually, the pipes of thousands of homes are frozen throughout the city, such that the plumbers are run off their feet (and, let’s face it, likely loving every minute of it). Not that a plumber can help in my case: the pipes are frozen underground, meaning the City has to deal with it. It cost $90 for the plumber to come and tell us that. It will cost a further $100 for the City to come “deal with it”. Welcome to a Winnipeg winter.
What does this mean in practical terms? No coffee, no tea, no soup, no pasta. A toilet that is as useless as a bikini in December. No baths, no showers.
On the other hand, at least there’s now a good excuse for the dishes piling up in the sink… 
Update: It’s the following evening, and still no water… A few City workers attempted to steam the pipes but to no avail: they’re still frozen solid. Even our water meter is frozen! We’re now on a waiting list to have some kind of outside work done. That work may take another day or two, and may happen at any time, day or night – not sure if they’ll wake us up for that or not. So I may be without water for several more days, or I may be woken up at 3:00 some morning. Neither option sounds particularly delicious. All I know is, there will once again be no shower or bath for this cynic. 
Hope you guys are doing okay without water. Just fill the bathtub with snow, and at least you have a bit of water for a few things.
We got 2 of those big refillable plastic containers, which help… at least there’s coffee in the morning. But this lack of bathing is making me feel downright medieval!
And not that there’s ever a good time to have your pipes frozen, but this is happening at a rather unfortunate time, what with my mum still recovering from her surgery and my hectic schedule this week. Suffice to say that we are in a mood most foul these days… the proverbial little black raincloud has settled in over our rooftop, methinks.
When I was a little girl in the country, they would heat up the water from the snow on the stove, in a kettle and stick it in a metal tub many time over until i could enjoy a hot bath. Hope it all thaws very soon so you can revert to your favorite habits. Does being bathless has any effect on the quality of your sleep?
Courage.”Le meilleur est à venir”
Ah Beautiful , je crois comprendre que tu as pas mal de soucis ” glacés ” et ” givrés” en ce moment . Comme Moonbeam j’ai connu aussi la neige fondue sur le feu et les bains des enfants dans un tub !! Les maisons anciennes à la campagne offrent certains
Courage et à bientôt
“inconvénients ” l’hiver … et les plombiers difficiles à déplacer !
J’ai de bonnes nouvelles: l’eau coule chez moi dès ce matin (à 12h30)! C’est beau d’être encore capable de laver ses mains et de faire un peu de soupe.
Moi aussi j’ai des souvenirs de la jeunesse sans l’eau – mais pas comme vous le racontez. Ma maison d’enfance était au milieu d’une vallée et un forêt, tout près de la plus grande forêt vierge de l’Amérique du Nord. Chaque fois qu’il y avait des orages ou des tempêtes de neige (c’est-à-dire très souvent pendant l’automne et l’hiver), les poteaux de téléphone ont tombés, et les arbres tombaient sur les lignes électriques. Les puits étaient électrique, ainsi pas d’électricité = pas d’eau! Souvent, pendant les tempêtes, on été sans téléphone, sans eau, sans lumières, sans chauffage… Ouf! Heureusement on avait un grand fourneau de bois qui pouvait réchauffer le sous-sol, alors la famille a passé ses jours là, en attendant les ouvriers de venir faire un peu de magie avec les lignes électriques dehors.