I am mortified, as the daughter of a plumber, that it didn’t occur to me that watching the toilet in our newly remodeled bathroom slowly sinking to one side, was an obvious sign that it was out of plumb. The first clue that we had a problem should have been when I put a box of tissues on top of the tank and it ceremoniously slid off. The second clue was noticing the floor felt spongy as I reached to retrieve the tissues. Tilting toilet and a spongy floor, any observant person would have recognized these obvious signs of a disaster much sooner than we did.

I recognize that my lack of patience may have set this mini disaster in motion. I was in a rush to have the bathroom completed during the first remodel and I subscribed to the “ignorance is bliss” system; I laid the new floor over the old floor, ignoring any potential problems with the old floor. I had the toilet installed, along with a new sink and vanity, then the bathtub and surrounding walls were covered with new fiber glass wrapping, in my defense, it looked great.

Now it’s time to deal with the consequences of my impatience. First is to determine why the toilet currently resembles the leaning tower of Pisa. Is it the old floor, did the toilet installation go awry, or possibly a cracked toilet? Worst-case, a foundation issue? Hopefully, we will soon have a solution, but timing is everything, and the snow is impeding progress.

This is the sole bathroom in our house; so, while it undergoes (re) construction it will mean midnight bladder calls will have us running downstairs, through the house, across the ice-covered deck, the snowy rocky path to the studio facilities. Considering my lack of grace, I can see myself planted in the snow outside, clawing my way to the studio bathroom, while suffering from hypothermia. Option one, I may just find a sleeping bag and camp on the floor in the studio. Option two, (more to my liking) a few nights at an inexpensive hotel in Walla Walla. A mini vacation to have access to indoor plumbing, and now that we can, enjoy some indoor restaurant dining.

Meanwhile, we’re waiting for the weather to cooperate so we can begin the remodel of the remodeled bathroom. Until then, I just cross my fingers every time I use the bathroom and hope that I don’t fall into a sink hole. It’s pretty sad when I’m jealous of Mugsy, who has the whole outdoors in which “to take care of business.”

I may have to reassess my liquid intake, less water, but no chance I’ll reduce my coffee, diet coke or wine intake. There are limits to my sacrifices. In fact, just the idea of going to Home Depot to pick out new flooring is sacrifice enough for me. I’m hopeful we don’t also have to replace the two-year-old toilet as well.

Being an inveterate multi-tasker, as I am writing this, the TV is playing in the background which is giving me a good dose of “putting things into perspective.” While watching an old western, I’m reminded that I’m just lucky to live in the era of indoor plumbing. Then watching the current situation in Texas, not only puts life with one bathroom into perspective but makes me grateful to live in Waitsburg with its true sense of community. I know that in emergencies, everyone here is so generous and giving.

And yes, that is unabashedly a hint: if you see me walking around Waitsburg looking desperate, “May I use your bathroom, please?”