When Water Was at a Premium

I remember two times as a child when water was at a premium, not in financial cost, but by a lack of water availability. The first place was when we lived in a summer cabin. There were six of us. Mom, Dad, my three siblings and I. If it didn't feel too creepy we could take baths in the creek water that came through the faucets.

Mom, having been from an area of Pennsylvania where this was not considered unusual convinced us this was normal and quite safe. Waterways were not so polluted as they are today. All we had to do was go back out to the dock and look straight down to the bottom of the creek through that clear water. So, what harm was there?

However, we were forbidden to drink this water. The only drinking water came from a spring up a steep hill from where we lived. My father and older brother used to go up there and fill up large containers of water and bring them home. A bucket sat in the corner of the kitchen with a long-handled cup in it. I'm sure in olden times a family might share this cup, going over to it to take a drink. However, Mom poured it into a Tupperware container and put it in the refrigerator so we could pour ourselves an individual glass of water. Otherwise, the long-handled cup was used to add water to cooking pots or for heating up for washing and rinsing the dishes.

The second circumstance where lack of water was an issue was when we lived in a hundred-year-old farmhouse out in the country. The wide creaking floorboards of the kitchen housed a large trap door that led down to the storage cistern, our only source of water storage. Winter snow melt and rain helped to keep the cistern partly full. But, it was necessary to go out to the well as summer passed and the cistern went dry. We had to pump water into large pails which we used to wash dishes or mop floors. (not very sanitary, but we never thought about that).  At first, we all shared in pouring buckets of water into the cistern. But it seemed an unending chore until my big brother rigged up a rain gutter beneath the spigot so we could pump water directly into the cistern. My big brother was a really clever guy! At one point, though, even the well went dry and my father had to order water and have it delivered in a large truck, which then emptied water into our cistern.

When I think about it today, I shake my head in wonder. I live in California now. I lived in Western New York in my childhood. I expect to experience drought here, but not in New York. It makes me wonder what people did in times past when water was at a premium. The world I live in today makes it appear that water is abundant, yet not all that safe to drink. Therefore, it is popular habit to buy drinking water by individual bottles. Truck delivery is done by five-gallon jugs.

Great Power

Sand Grains
free movement
Dunes redistributing sediment

Beaches eroding
ocean waves
washing shorelines
Surf rolling, pounding.
Coastline shrinking
White water curling,
through seaside rocks.

Moss, all green, alive
holding tenaciously
swirled and twirled

Low tide
sucks away the shore.
High tide flooding.

Moon stands upon the ripples,
tip toe light on moving prisms,
raising and lowering tides.

Water
It's just water.
The great power
moving and changing
the geography of the world

Wood and Water

.

My mother always said my sister Satsu was like wood; as rooted to the earth as a sakura tree.

But she told me I was like water. Water can carve its way even through stone...and when trapped, water makes a new path...

Now I understood the thing I´d overlooked; the point wasn´t to become a geisha but to be one. To become a geisha...well, that was hardly a purpose in life. But to be a geisha... I could see it now as a stepping-stone to something else. After all, these are not the memoirs of an empress, nor of a queen. These are memoirs of another kind.

From: Memoirs of a Geisha

Summer Swim Party

In college, my professor invited us all to his house for a barbecue, and swim. Our families were invited, too. We were thoroughly enjoying ourselves laughing about how Seymour's dog would eat fallen avocados from the tree. No wonder he was so fat and glossy!

Marissa, let out a scream and, stunned, I watched as she dove into the deep end of the pool where her toddler was quickly sinking to the bottom. We'd never heard a sound out of the child, no splashing, no crying out.

Call it Mother's Instinct that Marissa had looked up just at that moment. But call it Mother's Death Defying Heroism that she leaped into the pool and saved her drowning son.

As Marissa resurfaced wild eyed, with little Brian held high in her arms she choked "I can't swim!"

Fortunately, two others had jumped into the pool right behind her and were able to rescue them both.

I am reminded of this harrowing incident in my life by a drowning that occurred yesterday by the local news that seven people were rescued yesterday. Sadly one of them died.

Most of us probably think that when someone is drowning, they spend some time thrashing about in the water calling for help. But, as it was with little Brian, he quietly sunk. Simple as that. People don't always appear to be drowning when they are drowning.

As for Marissa and Brian? She had seen him just in time. The few seconds he was under the water was sufficient for him to have a bit of coughing and crying once out of the pool. No CPR was necessary. Just the same, we took them to the emergency room to make sure he was okay. Thankfully, he was.

Desperate for Clean Water

When you're little, you put your whole body into it. Easy enough to grab the handle and push it up, but getting it back down, you had to jump, put all your weight on it to get it into down position, then lift as fast as you can to get the next one going down.Your best bet was to have a gallon of water handy to pour down inside the pump, in order to not kill yourself trying to pump the water. For my Dad or big brother, it seemed a miracle they could pump gallons and gallons of water into the cistern with one arm pumping. That's how it was with our sweet, pure well water. My how things have changed.

Today there's so much controversy about drinking water. Is my faucet water safe to drink? What about plastic bottled water and it's effect upon the environment. What's your plan of action? Got one? I didn't. Then one day while at the grocery store, I noticed that there were no special sales on bottled water. You know, those packs of 24 handy dandy, carry with you, clean, clear, mountain streams healthy, unpolluted water? That stuff. Since it wasn't on sale and I knew I would need at least the 24 bottles or more to get me through the week, I hesitated. Whoa! If I bought two packs that would be a pretty big chunk of cash.

I thought to save money by calling up the local bottled water company, one of those who bring it to your door in big jugs. You can by the special dispenser, only 80 to 100 bucks if you want the one that gives you instant hot and instant cold water. I got the plain dispenser, a crock and wooden stand, for under 50 bucks. Then there is the bottle deposit. Five dollars up front. Not bad as long as I keep returning the old bottles for the new ones. Then, I could expect the bottled water truck to come to my house and deliver five gallon jugs. Soon I was paying for 5 gallons of "fine" distilled or spring water (probably filtered tap) a month. Still, it was less expensive than buying a month's worth of 24 packs even on sale. Plus, I felt better about not adding to the growing problem of disposing of the empty bottles. Let us not go into the leaching of chemicals into those bottles according to some sources. Save that for another time, when I can get all the facts.

About a year later, I began to be a little haunted by my new set up. I'm sure you know what the water was delivered in? Plastic. Nice thick plastic that wouldn't crack if you dropped one on the sidewalk while unloading it from the truck. The truck driving all over the county with the heat piercing through the jugs of water.

Did you know, by the way, that one gallon of water weighs 8 pounds?  I don't know how much the plastic fiver weighed. It seemed light when empty. One of the hassles I ran into was I couldn't lift the 40 plus pounds up over my shoulder in order to turn it over into the dispenser. So, my options were to stay home and wait for the delivery guy to load one for me. Two problems with that: staying home all day until he showed up, and hopefully have an empty bottle sitting on top of my dispenser to trade in. My other option was to wait until the weekend when my Superman came to visit. Again this depended on whether or not the previous bottle was empty. Sometimes if not entirely, I would take enough out, and pour it into the aquarium, which seems to evaporate faster than I can drink water!

Superman said, it's less expensive to get the water ourselves from one of those water dispenser stores. So I discontinued the service, and we went to the local store and bought two five gallon, and one 3 gallon jugs. We've been going every weekend to refill and reload onto my water crock dispenser.

Now I question the wisdom in this. Wish I had some clear, pure water. Wish I had that pump in the backyard, that pump going deep underground into the well. I would jump up. I would push down. I would prime the pump. I could use the exercise.

Soil Begging to be Touched!

The rain is gone, fruit trees are budding and  throwing out their first blooms. Apricot, peach, plums. Yum. Can hardly wait.

My hands itch to immerse themselves in the soil, to tidy up the mess the garden has become over the winter. Though no snow storms ravaged the land, rain is our winter fare.

Fortunately this year was a good rain year. Water high in the reservoir means no rationing. If those who garden heavily want to water their yards without counting out every drop, they will be joyful for the abundance.

I've pulled myself out of that group of gardeners, tending roses and other plants that don't thrive without constant individualized care. The soil here is one of the worst. Being part of the flood plain you'd think it would be rich. But this is the Pajaro River, one of the most endangered rivers in America.

Previous flooding over generations, before my house ever existed has created a hard pack over my yard. It's a dichotomy to me that the city is surrounding by some of the richest soil and biggest agriculture in the world. When you go to the store to buy strawberries, inevitably they will have come to you from Watsonville, or Salinas Valley.

Early land owning farmers of the region had enough sense to stay away from the non-arable land where I live and delegated it to the Chinese hired labor to scratch out their existence.

So I sit here scratching my head how to live with the land peacefully. It's still a process for me. I have left off from cultivating, improving my soil with bone and blood meal, growing my own worms, composting and digging into the compacted clay, hard tack soil in attempts to urge it along into something abundant. It's been a losing battle fighting off the local predators, weeds, bugs and mammalian alike. It's not true companion planting will do it. It's not true lady bugs, miniature wasps and lacewings can completely obliterate the problem unless you have a lot of money to invest. They don't know enough to stay within the confines of your own garden, but like to travel on. I've let things go fallow.

I have a small front yard. and instead of being the shame of the neighborhood it was at one time, the jewel. Do we all know, however, one of those houses where everyone driving by either averts their eyes, or points? My method of scattering seed instead of planting from the nursery has put me in that category for some.  I've made enough adjustments to keep from being reported to the neighborhood association. (Yes, we have garden police here.)

It was questionable whether or not my yard completely full of Flanders red poppies was unsightly or beautiful. Eventually, the decision came down to fire hazard. That was a drought year and the three foot poppy plants had dried out quite quickly. I could see their point as they crackled where ever I walked. I pulled them all up and through them in one of the many compost bins in my back yard.

But, poppies have plans of their own.

Many seeded early leaving behind another crop the following year.

Rather than deal with another hassle, I judiciously pulled them up as soon as they bloomed.


We shall see if any of them dare to raise their lovely red heads this year!

Water, Water, Not Everywhere

A young woman I know is an Evironmental Minimalist. When I tried to give her some jeans I had that were her size she turned them down. She said she didn't need more than the two pair she already had. I didn't understand.

My son goes to Burning Man, and comes back every time totally STOKED~! I've listened to him describe how he discovered the awesomeness of living minimally, of being in the desert, of living responsibly with the environment, of being properly prepared for survival, not wasting water, and having a blast at it.

I go to his house and the toilet has not been flushed because he and his roommates responsible efforts to save water.  I pee. It's okay. It's only yellow. I've peed over much worse than that when I was a kid sitting in an outhouse out in the woods behind my Aunt Laura's house.

Among other things that I have been investigating regarding my green footprint, (maybe I should say yellow?) I've looked at how I have abused my right to water. I've thoughtlessly watered a yard that didn't need it.

I drove away in the car with the sprinkler running thinking I would be back in a few minutes and realizing 4 hours later, OH NO, I'd left the water running! Thoughtless! Criminally thoughtless! Especially since I live in California where we often have drought.

Now that I have admitted this wanton water wasting, I hope no one comes and burns an effigy of me in the front yard. I can just imagine going out to turn the hose on the fire only to discover someone has turned the water off! I'm working diligently to wipe this nightmare from my mind. I promise!

The city I live in has been awarded a government grant to provide low flow toilets to all residents who ask for them. This includes installation. Yes, this is your tax dollars at work.  I made an appointment. They were supposed to show up today, but didn't. I called. They rescheduled for another day. 

Okay, so this is hard to admit "publicly" (does anybody ever read this blog?) but, in the last few months I have been diligently trying to remember to not flush if it is just urine. Ew! Did I really write that word out loud? Yes, I did. There it is, right in front of my eyes. Urine.

What is it they say? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I'd like to add that value is in the mind of the thinker.

Did you know that urine has value? Of course, it would be disastrous if we could not produce any. We would die. It's a precious fluid our bodies produce. Did you know that in certain cultures there are prayers of thanks given to the deity for the ability to produce and excrete urine? Did you know that urine is necessary to cure leather?  Did you know our Astronauts partake of their own urine? After properly treated urine is drinkable as pure water. They do that on the International Space Station.

I'm not suggesting we drink our urine. Nor that we all not flush the average of 250 cc that goes into the toilet when we micturate. Though, think about it. Just think about it a minute. How many gallons does it take to flush away that one cup of urine. It takes an average of 3 to 7 gallons to dispose of what was a cup of latte a short time ago!!!

The amount of water wasted depends on how old your toilet is. Less ancient models than mine usually use about three gallons, they say. The newest models, like the one I'm supposed to have installed next week, flushes about one and a half gallons.

After I called my local water company, I learned where to find how many gallons of water I have donated to the local sewer system every month, by washing dishes, clothes, bathing, watering the yard, washing the car and flushing. Guess what? It's a lot. Not only could I save water by being more conscious, more minimalist, but I could save a lot of money off my water bill. Too bad there are no incentive reward points or something like that to encourage people to use less water.

Some websites I've read mention that as much as 30% of our water usage is from flushing the toilet. Yikes! That sure is an expensive way to get rid of our pee!

A Piddling Amount of Water.

Do you look forward to receiving your utility bills? This month I definitely wanted to see them. So, when my city utility bill arrived I was ecstatic. There it was! I had cut my water consumption in half!!!

Month of December I used 2992 gallons

Month of January I used 1496 gallons

A savings of $11.38

If I do the same for 12 months it will equal $136.56. But, I hope to keep decreasing my water usage further. If I continue to find more reasonable ways to conserve water, I will save more. And maybe, just maybe, make a drop in the bucket of my environmental footprint.

What got me on this track?

Last fall the pipes beneath my cement floor began leaking. Why in the world anyone would put plumbing underneath a cement floor is beyond me!

When walking barefoot, I noticed one part of the kitchen floor was hot compared to other parts. It took a while for anyone to believe me, until the water was seeping up through the edges between the tiles. I didn't know how long the seepage of water had been occurring. It had been at least a month or more that I had been aware of the extra hot floor. It was hot because it was the pipe connected to the hot water heater.

That month my water bill showed I'd used 673,200 gallons!!! That's 450 times the amount of water I used this month. What a waste of water! What a dip into my budget!

It is not only the repair of the leaking pipe that helped cut my water bill. Because of what happened I became very aware of how wasteful I had been regarding water, so I began washing dishes and clothing differently, which I will write about further.