We were anxiously waiting to hear from our well driller the results of the well flow test. Important because the well driller had hinted that we might have a dry well. Considering the cost of drilling our well was north of $32,000, the idea of having to drill another hole in the ground was a little hard to get our heads around.
So you can imagine our elation when he let us know that the flow test had been just fine, and test results were already off to our county’s health department. In his text to me, he typed “14 gpm” – as in fourteen gallons per minute. The county minimum was 10. And if the flow wasn’t at least 10, we’d have to install a reserve tank, spend more money, and so on.
You get the idea.
14 gpm meant I could build a smaller structure to house the pressure tanks and water treatment. I could also put it on cinder blocks instead of a concrete pad. Less expensive, in other words, and easier to build. All good.
As a result of that simple text, I spent about 30 hours the past few weekends working on our well house shed. My friend, Mr. Gordon Becker, helped out to the tune of 8 – 10 hours. Time is precious, so I value any time anyone is willing to give to help me out in my projects.
At the moment, the floor is in place, the walls are framed and up, and we are ready to install rafters, add exterior sheeting, and finish it up.
Yesterday morning, before I headed out the door to catch the ferry, I was thumbing through a copy of the well documents the country had mailed us. They’d arrived the day before. I was scanning the well test results and noticed the entry for GPM — 4.6.
I looked more closely. No doubt about it. Over the course of the three hour test and multiple entries, a steady 4 plus gallons per minute.
I suppose, under the circumstances, when I had received that initial text from my well driller, I should have responded with something like: “you’re kidding”, or “I would have been happy with 2 gpm, but 14? WTF?”
But I didn’t.
After all, it was good news. It was winning a modest amount from the Lotto: $1,000? Really? Woohoo.
Besides, I really needed some good news. So why would I want to question 14 gallons per minute.
After I calmed down, I called my well driller. Got his voice mail. I left a very professional message. No profanity. I also texted him and asked him to give me a call, mentioned the typo he made and asked for clarification. Was it 14 or 4? I already knew what the answer would be, but I wanted to hear it from him.
Maybe I’m old school, but if it was me who’d goofed up like that, I would I have apologized immediately. I make mistakes all the time. All of us do. And in this particular case, I’d just spent a bunch of time and money on a shed I didn’t need, not right at the moment, and tapped into the better impulses of a good friend.
In the end, the time spent on shed number one isn’t going to be a complete waste of time. I’ll drag it out of the way, and build the new, bigger shed on a concrete slab in the same location and finish it up later…sometime. And as Mr. Becker said, “you can never have enough sheds.”
I guess not. Just like you can ever have enough Scotch.
But that’s not the point.
I’m planning to do all the ground work for the “new” shed on Saturday. Already got the forms, and picked up the rebar last night. I’ve got a call out to Mr. Becker.
And I’m still waiting for that apology call from my well driller.