Sunday I finished patching the sprinkler feed pipe that we so cunningly augered into (GLURSH).
Monday afternoon, I broke out the walky-talkies, and, as Margie manned the valve in the basement, I stood outside, looking down into the Big Hole, waiting for the fountain to start up around the patch.
Nothing. Nada.
I patched the valve control wires that also got chewed up, and we ran through the sprinklers.
Perfect. The two I’d rerouted held steady, and the Big Hole stayed dry, and all the sprinkler zones ran.
Hu-frickin-zzah.
Coincidentally, yesterday was the last day for outdoor sprinklers for all us users of Denver Water. (We’re actually in a different water district, but last year, just in time for the drought, our water district sold all its well water rights to someone else, and started buying Denver Water. I’m sure this was a good idea. I’m sure of it. Bastards.)
So, having gone without sprinkling for the last week, I polished off the season with a massive double-run.
Now when I get home from work, I can actually be working on fence, not plumbling.