Third and Final Hole to Nowhere

The first hole to nowhere was dug because the Planner and the kid were simply doing what boys do.  The second hole to nowhere was dug to contain water being pumped out of the well in efforts to produce better tasting water.  The third and final hole to nowhere, well it was dug professionally. Crazy huh, even professionals dig holes to nowhere.

Living in a small town does have its benefits, sometimes.  Last week, after hearing about the well being a total bust, the well man called offering to drill a second well.  He claimed he just couldn't live with himself knowing the possibility of fresh water being available at a shallower level and he drilled right through it.  It may not be the best tasting water, but it could be better than our water.  Huh, better than our water.  What water?  We don't have fresh water, we have salt water, remember.  Stagnant is water is better than our water.  Mineral-laden, cloudy water is better than our water.  Okay, you get my drift.  So the well man was coming, to drill another well at only 55' deep.  Drinkable water could be just days away, maybe, hopefully.  Gosh, wouldn't that be just fantastic?

If it too good to be true, then it is.  Water at 55' deep was salty.  Not giving up yet, the pump was pulled upwards until it started to sputter at 32' deep.  Yup, you guessed it, still freaking salty.  Just as salty as the first well, just as salty (or maybe even more) as 55' deep. Salty, salty, salty.  Damm, damm, damm.  This attempt at finding drinkable water would not have happened in a big city.  Not even in a wanna be big city.  This is the kind of workmanship comes from living in small town and promoting small town businesses.  If Plan473 moves on and another well would need to be drilled, the well man would be called on once again.  When friends ask for referrals, the well man will receive the highest ratings.  The well man is a man of integrity, a man of his words, a man who stands behind his work.  Well done, well man.  Well done!

The water from the newer, shallower well still looks just as beautiful as a clear mountain spring water buts it tastes like the bay.  No, worse.  The water coming from our well taste AWFUL.  It smells like condensed rotten eggs, tastes like puh-poo-poo, and leaves a funky residue in the mouth.

Hope is a funny emotion.  The chest fills up, the heart beats quicker, the day seems brighter.  All that hope wiped away with a water droplet.  We didn't have water last week.  We still don't have water this week.  Yes, plans are being made to collect water, but for today, today we are waterless and hopeless.  What was once a chest filled with hope, is now empty and void and maybe even a little painful. Yeah, hope is a funny emotion.