Fun with a Boil-Water-Alert!
Posted by Lissa on May 3, 2010
And of course by “fun” I mean “not very much fun at all.”
Apparently an aqueduct went boom and now the water coming out of our taps isn’t suitable for brushing our teeth, drinking, washing raw vegetables, etc. etc. The local Starbucks was closed yesterday because the tap water can’t be trusted. We can’t go to any restaurants around here because a) how are they going to wash their food? b) how are the workers going to wash their hands after wiping their arses?
Mike and I are doing our part to make sure this emergency ends quickly.
How are you doing that, Lissa? you ask. Are y’all out there patching the aqueduct?
Don’t be silly, we don’t know nothin’ ’bout no aqueducts, say I.
No, Mike and I went outside the Boil-Water-Zone yesterday morning and picked up a SteriPen water sterilizer. Along with four new plastic jugs (plus one that I already had), the Pen and a 34-oz Nalgene, we’ve UV-lighted enough water to have a pitcher in each bathroom for teeth-brushing, face-washing etc.; a pitcher in the fridge for drinking; and two pitchers next to the sink for basic washing of plates, utensils etc. Everything that can be put in the dishwasher is going through the dishwasher with heated start and heated dry.
We even managed to pick up two more racks of water (we went to a WalMart outside the zone last night and got lucky — they’d just restocked). Needless to say, getting water inside the zone was not really an option:
(As Mike pointed out, situations like these are when stores should think about raising their prices; what was “market price” during a normal period is substantially below “market price” during an emergency. This shop was emptied out shortly before we got there; we watched people trundling out with ten cases of water and wondered how much was due to need, and how much was due to “Well, it doesn’t expire, so better stock up!” Of course, if you raised prices during an emergency around here you’d be arrested, drawn and quartered for price gouging. Perhaps they should have made a “two per customer” limit, though.)
We were careful to eat lunch and dinner at restaurants outside the zone, where employees are presumably safe to wash their hands after using the litter box. (And presumably doing so.) My menu plan for the week substituted cantaloupe, pineapple and squash for our usual greens (since they don’t require washing). I’m throwing a canned soup in my bag, along with extra bottles of water and hand sanitizer, since I can’t prepare my own salad and I’ve no idea if Ye Olde Financial Company will have stuff available.
As I said — we’re all set at home, and we’ve got enough portable stuff to make do at work also. For days, if not weeks, if necessary.
And because we’re all prepped and set — the crisis should be over by tomorrow.
You KNOW that’s the way it works.
Happy Boiling, y’all!
P.S. I’m a little surprised Lissaville doesn’t have some sort of notification system for emergencies like this — you know, a blast message to local phones, etc. We were notified by a friend. When I showed up at the animal shelter yesterday some hadn’t yet gotten the news.
P.P.S. They’ve started chlorinating the water. You can tell by the smell. Mmmmm.
P.P.P.S. It’s hard to break the habit of turning on the tap to wash your hands.
Oh, and I forgot to tell you — this crisis is all my fault.
You see . . . Mike and I LOOKED at SteriPens at an EMS a few weeks ago. I mentioned that I wanted something similar to put in my Zombie Invasion kit (when I finally put it together). And then, because I haven’t started that kit yet . . . we didn’t buy it.
So, yeah, the crisis is all our fault. And have I mentioned that God/Godddess/Shiva has a pretty effed-up sense of humor?