Domesticity: Maintenance

Maintenance is one of those "middle" activities. It comes between the first flush of love (the excitement of having bought something new) and the relief of finally getting rid of something you no longer need (please dispose of items responsibly). Maintenance is hard slogging for some of us. It means shining shoes, darning socks, brushing coats, mending. Maintenance is not sexy.

 

We have a two-filter system for our kitchen tap. I'll leave aside the question of whether it actually does what it's supposed to do, whatever that is. We have it and it's my job to maintain it.

 

Sometimes I am slow to do my duty. Sometimes I let too many months go by without cleaning or changing the filters. And when I do that, the water flows ever more slowly from the tap. In fact, if I wait way too long, the water will no longer flow but will dribble at a fast drip. After several weeks of dealing with that, I finally gird my loins and prepare to deal with the water filter system.

 

For a long time now the water has been barely trickling. In the weeks between realizing that I have to do something and the moment when I actually take action, I devise ways to amuse myself while I wait for the water to fill my glass. I read the paper. I clean a cupboard. I write a poem or two.

 

But finally the day of loin-girding arrives. I absolutely must clean the ceramic filter and change the charcoal filter. TODAY.

 

I empty out the under-the-sink cupboard. I turn off the appropriate valve and open the faucet to "relieve the pressure," as the instructions tell me to. Then I twist off the first sump. That is, I try to twist off the first sump. It is stuck. In order to maintain the filter, you must kneel at an awkward angle in front of the cupboard under the sink. This is not a good posture for twisting a stuck object, and particularly not for twisting with all your might.

 

I try. I give up. I try again. I give up. For an hour I keep going back to the cupboard under the sink and exerting all my effort in an attempt to twist off the sump. No luck at all.

 

When my husband comes home several hours later I enlist his help. His reputation is that he can solve any household problem that needs brute force. But this time he doesn't even need to use force. The second sump, the farthermost one, which I haven't tried to detach, just falls off of its own accord. Once that has happened, the front one loosens up and is removable.

 

I clean the ceramic filter and put on a new charcoal filter. The job is done. We again have filtered water that fills a glass in a few seconds flat.

 

Timely maintenance is its own reward.

 

Copyright 2007 Ann Tudor
www.anntudor.ca