The day we got running water was momentous. Suddenly there were extra hours available in the day, as we no longer had to haul water from the well for our every need. It could now be pumped into the tank at night (when we have power), then gravity fed on demand. I rang my mum to share the sweet sound of water hitting the bottom of a bucket. I could wash my hair with ease, rinse rice under the tap and use a hose. With a single pipe we moved forward a hundred years.
However, despite being atop an eight foot masonry wall, the timber tank stand was discovered by white ants in its first wet season. We could watch the progress of their rapidly ascending tunnels, faster than a building team on a contract deadline. When left alone they moved in and fattened up. We now risk our lives every time we go to the toilet; the white ant eaten posts are held up with struts and threaten to collapse at any moment.
With a new tank stand imminent, Aquaman has been back playing with sticks and glue to create a model. The new structure will have steel uprights and cross beams, and a timber platform for our dear little tank. Hopefully there will be little disruption to the water supply. There is a hole in my bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza.