I am no plumber. In fact, every time I think of doing something outside of my vocation, pastor, I hear Jerry’s words, “It’s hard on a preacher to sweat.” This coming from a strapping fellow accustomed to hauling hay, cutting calves, and planting cotton.
Each of the past couple of weeks I have enjoyed helping get Jason and Tommie’s house ready for closing. Their moving means Max is closer!
Last week I worked on drains for a hot water tank. Retro fitting drains in a house built in the 1940’s comes with creative possibilities. Sitting and staring for a bit left me thinking, “What would Dad do?” The question has a genealogy. “What would Thad do?”, got it all started.
Grandpa Littleton grew up in an era where creativity and industry were two sides of the same coin. He owned an apartment complex and a used car lot. The common denominator? Both presented ongoing needs for updating and minor repairs. Dad often helped with the apartments. By the time I was old enough to tag along and learn my uncles were in the car business and Grandpa, not so much.
I remember as a youngster going with Dad to Grandpa’s house and the minute we hit the garage there were coffee cans full of different items. Buckets held more of the same. Every possible nut, bolt, pipe, fitting, and a host of other things filled the shelves in the large garage. It was a gold mine for the imagination. And, it was a supply for unending repair needs.
So, sat there I did until the inspiration hit. Following that lineage, I put some things together for which Grandpa would be proud, and likely Dad too.
Yesterday Dad and I ventured over to work on a couple of other items on the knockout list. Most of the things took very little time. We then turned our attention to checking on the sprinkler system. Dad installed it about twenty years ago.
We ran new control wire and hung a new controller. Once we attempted to test the system we realized something did not work. Off to the valve box we went. Peering into the valve box revealed two broken pies. It looked as though a large vehicle backed into their drive and missed. Rolling across the control box it must have snapped two pipes. We are not sure when the valve got turned off. Maybe the box was full of water and we had run over to turn the water off. Who knows.
What began as a small project left us once again thinking, “What would Thad do?” We made a couple of runs to Lowe’s for parts. Dad and I lay there in the dark over the hole wondering, thinking. Then, after a bit, we set out to reconstruct the piping for the valves. We left at 10:30 p.m. I rolled in at about 11:00 p.m.
Now my job is to be sure my grandsons know the answer to the question, “What would Thad do?”
Enjoy your weekend!