"Its what sons do for their Ma’s.”...

  

        is what my son said to me after I thanked him profusely for spending half his Saturday dealing with my problem. That may be the case, but this mom is still extremely grateful.

          There is a Facebook friend who always posts a public service announcement when the Seattle weather forecast calls for freezing temperatures. He offers great advice which I usually follow. Unfortunately, this time his sharing went in one eye and out the other.

          Early Saturday morning when I first got up, I noticed my Nespresso machine had very little water in its container. I removed it and took it to the sink where I twisted the faucet as I always do. Nothing happened. Not being fully awake, I twisted it again and was amazed at the lack of pressure behind the faucet. Even barely awake, I managed to yell several naughty epithets because I knew somewhere my pipe(s) had frozen. I also knew why…because I hadn’t left the bathroom cold water faucet dripping as my FB friend suggested.

          It’s been at least a couple decades since the Karlberg water pipes froze. I discovered the problem when I got up to get in the shower for work. No water, no shower, no work. It was a big deal and I remember John renting some huge blower thing to warm up the garage and the pipes located there. If memory serves, the pipe(s) cracked, so John had to use his plumbing skills. Unfortunately, his initial attempt apparently wasn’t quite up to par because the following Friday, there was once again no water to the shower. Two Fridays in a row…I’m sure my boss thought I made it up.

          Fortunately, I had filled the water container in the fridge so I was able to water both my Nespresso and Kuma. I had my latte and waited until 8:00 am when I texted my son AJ…”I regret to inform you my pipes froze. Going to call plumber neighbor at 9:00 am.” I got a text back, “Call me.”

          The end result was AJ came over and figured out where the water had frozen. It was the hose bib at the front of the house. He thawed it with his heat gun; and let me tell you, the sound of water gushing out of the open faucets was music to my ears. He told me the cover I’d put on the hose bib was actually worthless.

          AJ’s assistance didn’t stop there. He went off to Ace Hardware and bought a heat strip and performed the installation. There was already a heat strip on the other side of the garage door which wasn’t plugged in. He plugged that in too. n.b. When John redid the water line from the street, he brought the pipe in to the right side of the garage door, then up and over and down the left side. I think it was the second Friday when he installed insulation over all those pipes.

          I made AJ a latte and he played a bit with Kuma, having bought him a Cow Ball when he was at Ace…it’s been Kuma’s favorite toy since. With hugs and my deepest gratitude, AJ left to go home and relax for the remainder of the day. I collapsed on the couch, grateful my problem hadn’t required his entire day or one of those huge heaters. As I’m relaxing there’s a knock on the door and it’s AJ. He’d returned with a ceramic heater which he installed on the left side of the garage. He didn’t trust that old heat tape and wanted to make sure the water remained fluid. He provided me with instructions so I would know how it functions as well as when to turn it on.

          Now, he’d solved my original problem when he left for home the first time, so he really didn’t need to do anything additional, sort of go that extra mile, but he did. My thanks and hugs were even more generous when he left for home the second time. Saturday night AJ texted to make sure I’d turned the heater on as instructed. I replied I had and once again professed my thanks. His responding text was, “Its what sons do for their Ma’s.”

          Aren’t I the lucky (and profoundly grateful) mom though!!! Yes, I am. Yes, I am.