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The Joys of Rural Living: Water Filter Edition
I am so disgustingly pleased with myself that, were it any later than 10:30 a.m., I’d be pouring myself a drink and chilling out in the hot tub. (Oh dear. The little man who lives on my shoulder and repeatedly whispers into my ear–usually at very inopportune moments such as this–“Remember, thou art mortal,” has just pointed out to me that I don’t actually have a hot tub. Note to self: I need to get cracking on that very good idea I had (and mentioned at least glancingly in a post some years ago, I think), that I ought to be able to do something with the barn manure, an old stock tank, and the overflow from one of the rain-barrels, to remedy that problem).
Speaking of which, I read the other day that, in these restrictive days of lockdown, rich people who normally wouldn’t be caught dead chillin’ with Nous Deplorables in Tractor Supply or Rural King are buying stock tanks up in droves as accent pieces and ersatz “pools” for their patios and backyards. LOL. Levi had this figured out about a decade ago:
But I digress. That other point? (The drink?) Well, it’s 5 o’clock somewhere, right? Let’s see. 10:30 a.m. Eastern. GMT isn’t quite well-forward enough. Huh. Helsinki. Capetown. Cairo. And points East–Moscow, Delhi, Bangkok, Shanghai. A quick glance at the time-zones map convinces me that there are far more places in the world where it’s acceptable to have a small celebratory adult beverage right about now, than not. (This may even include that whole “international dateline” business, where things go simultaneously (and at the same time) forwards and backwards in time and motion. I’ve only ever crossed it twice in my life. To be clear, I’m not sure I’ve ever recovered.)
Still, I think I’m safe. Bottoms up!
The precipitating cause for this small celebratory event is my successful replacement of the whole-house water filter with a replacement cartridge.
Lest you think this is a major achievement, let me stipulate that it’s actually quite a trivial accomplishment in and of itself.
You see, my water supply at the farm comes from a well. There’s an eight-inch casing which lines a hole about nine inches in diameter, which goes down about 110 feet into the ground. Somewhere close to the 100-foot mark, water is struck, and it fills the casing, usually to within about 50 or 60 feet of ground level. (Mr. She and I had a water-witch diviner tell us where to drill, when we built out here in the mid 1980s. I wrote about him here.)
So, my water comes out of the ground, ably assisted by a small submersible pump. The one-inch pipe which carries it up goes into the house through the foundation, and supplies a six-gallon (I think) pressure tank under the stairs. That’s a metal tank with a rubber bladder in it (pictured on left). As the tank fills up, the bladder expands, causing the pressure which fires the water through the pipes inside the house. When the pressure level in the tank drops below a certain point, the submersible pump automatically turns on and adds more water to the tank. It’s hard to think of a simpler, and less expensive, system. And it’s one that’s in millions of homes in this country.
I’m very lucky. The water that comes up from my well is sweet and pure. I get it tested periodically, and there’s nothing in it that requires extreme filtration or purification. So the only device I have in-line is a Whirlpool whole-house sand and gravel filter. It’s another simple device–the water goes into the filter, through the filtration cartridge, and out the other side into the house. Left behind in the cartridge is any sand, gravel, or grit. (And there is some.)
The filter in the unit (picture on right) is supposed to be changed about every 90 days. I put it off far longer than I should, not because it’s hard, but because there are several pitfalls along the way, and if you’re not careful, one of them is almost sure to erupt.
Today, none of them did.
Rather than explain, in tedious detail, the process, I’ll just describe the pitfalls, and why it’s best to avoid them if you can:
- It’s necessary, before removing the unit, to turn off the “inlet” valve from the pressure tank/well. If you don’t, and you either try to release the pressure on the filtration unit (bad) or you try to unscrew they unit itself (worse), you’ll end up absolutely soaked and trying to alleviate a water crisis before it hits the pump switch and triggers an electrical malfunction (or worse).
- If you forget to release the pressure (there’s a rather obvious red button, but who’s looking, right?) after turning off the inlet valve, and you start to unscrew the unit itself, you’ll end up absolutely soaked and in the same position vis-a-vis the very close electrical contacts.
- There’s no indication on the unit which way is “screw to remove” and which way is “screw to attach.” It’s backwards of intuitive (why can I not just remember this?) in the sense that “clockwise” removes it, and “anti-clockwise” reattaches it.
- If you’re not careful, when you unscrew it, there will come a time when water belches forth from the unit, and you step back in surprise, at which point the whole thing goes sideways and unit, gasket, and everything else, ends up on the dirty floor.
- Once this has happened, and the whole thing is now compromised and filthy, it’s almost always the case that you’ll realize that you forgot to fill a clean bucket up with water before you started, and (because of #1 above and turning off the inlet) you now have no water to wash and sanitize all the parts. (This is where I excelled today, because perhaps, for the first time ever, I remembered to fill a two-gallon watering can with fresh water (and some bleach) beforehand so I could wash everything and bring it to my adequate, but less-than-stellar (I’m sure) standards.
Once you’ve got things clean (enough) it’s at this point, that it’s time to put the new filter in the unit (I always add a few more tablespoons of bleach, so that the first time through it “whooshes” clean), and screw the thing back on (counterclockwise). Then, open the “inlet” valve, stand back, in case it’s leaking (if it isn’t, well done!), and retire from the fray.
Everything this morning, for once, went swimmingly. Well. Not swimmingly. “Swimmingly” is not the desired outcome. Dry, clean, sanitary, and finished is what we’re aiming for. And for once, I got there. Pretty easily.
As sad and stupid as this year has been for me and for so many others, there are still things I’m grateful for. And the provision, absolutely gratis, of the pure and sweet, non-chlorinated, non-chemically-treated water than has sustained us out here since 1984, and for Harry Lindley, our personal water-spirit, who watched over us through the depredations of the frackers and the coal miners over the years (“Dig here,” he said. “There are two rivers that cross underground. Dig here, and you’ll have sweet water.”)–those are some of the things I’m grateful for.
What are you grateful for today?
Published in General
I’m pretty sure I’m alive. I’m not as sure I am awake, but we’ll go with that, too, regardless.
Alive is good. Those things that follow on from “alive” are even better.
I’m grateful for your article.
“Normal” would be “righty-tighty leftie-loosey” or the ever popular “right-hand rule” (wrap your right hand around the gizmo – if you rotate the doohicky in the direction your fingers are pointing, the doohicky will move in the direction your thumb points).
Yours isn’t like that. Simple.
It’s Tuesday, Thanksgiving is next week, I’m alive, I have a happy and healthy family, and much more besides.
And on a practical matter, I’ve replaced the flush handle on the girls’ bathroom toilet for the 4th time in 3 years, and I think I’ve finally found one that they cannot manage to break.
We had pretty much the same setup on our farm sans the filter. The well was already dug when we moved in but the previous owner also used a diviner . Our well actually went through a coal mine at about 50 ft and water was hit at 80. After about 15 years MrsCheese started having intestinal problems and we found the well was polluted with E. coli. Luckily within weeks the water company laid a 16 inch main right down our road and I tapped it for only the cost of the 600ft of pipe and it’s excavation cost. We still had the well for the barn and swimming pool. BTW you need to watch those pressure valves they can stick on and cause problems.
Ah, the joys of rural living. We are on a well; over the years we have replaced the underground pump and all the pipe, the pressure pump (twice), and now we have a system where if the level in the 5000 gallon storage tank drops a sensor kicks off the pressure pump. The low pressure is a warning giving us a while to get the problem fixed while we use the water in the tank (we can override the sensor shutoff). Our first Christmas we ran out of water at 9 PM Christmas Eve. Mrs Tex made awesome lasagna using the buckets of water we hauled from the neighbors’ house. I also learned how much water it took to make the toilets flush cleanly. We have since added a windmill on another well for backup although it’s not plumbed into the existing system yet, but it means we can always get water even if the power goes out.
Our well water is also clean and sweet, unlike some neighbors. Successful well drilling still seems as much art as science.
Great post! I can say I learned a bunch from your post. We have always been city kids, living where there is municipal water service. Our water here in Everett, Washington comes from a mountain lake (Spada Lake), and the forest around the lake is heavily protected-no people allowed). Our water is so soft, it needs some minerals added to it, and chlorine. Whenever we travel, we comment on how the water tastes elsewhere, and it’s rarely as good as ours. I am grateful that our water here is wonderful.
I am also grateful that, so far, my haircut scheduled for this afternoon has not been cancelled due to the new Covid lockdown.
Peace of mind and a song in my heart. Brunch this am wasn’t too shabby, either.
I remember having a stock tank swimming pool when I was a kid (1965-1969 time frame). I guess my parents were ahead of their time. The tank was round, about 10′ in diameter, and if all of us kids got going in the same direction we could create a heck of whirlpool that would drag us around in circles for a couple of minutes. Serious fun.
Very nice post… I have a 20 inch two stage filter unit using activated charcoal 5 micron filters with a spin filter for heavy sentiment before and a 36 inch UV sterilizer after that I put in myself.
Inspired with my technical wizardry? Please do not be, in spite of having a 3-month cycle that I repeat semi-religiously for the last fourteen years (because rain and aquifer levels change the mineral composition of the water producing what my wife and children describe as the dirty water smell (sediment: mostly red mud) ) I needed to draw a giant arrow pointing the direction to tighten because I have over tightened the dang unit too many times to count.
Big arrow pointing to the left or is it the right with the word “tighten”.
The water always tests near perfection which is just dumb luck.
The only mystery regarding tightening/loosening is that the setup is upside down. The female part is at the top and you screw the male part into it from underneath. It is clockwise to tighten and and counterclockwise to loosen but that is from the correct perspective, which is looking up at it from underneath.
Eureka! Next time, I’ll stand on my head to get the thing on and off, and it will all come right! Thanks, @garyinabq. (PS: I peeked at your profile, and you’re cheating):
Seriously, though, that does help. Thanks.
We had to replace the pump once, so far and the tank once. About eighteen months ago, we (finally!) got the generator hooked up, and now when the electric power goes out (at least monthly) I can still draw water from the faucet. It’s a Christmas miracle.
My next project is installing the hand pump (currently in several boxes in the driveway) onto the well so that if I run out of propane after the electric has been off for several days, I can pump water up manually, since I don’t feature dropping a bucket made from a sheep or goat’s stomach down there on a rope and hauling water up a cupful or two at a time.
Once I’ve done that, I can roll up the drawbridge.
The city water for Birmingham, England (where Granny lived) used to come from lakes in Wales, and it was the best water, soft and sweet.
Our own UK water (Droitwich, Worcestershire) was known as the ‘hardest’ (most full of minerals) in England. Every plumbing fixture and appliance bore evidence of it in the form of calcium buildup, and I’m sure it shortened the life of most of them.
Dad, who was a bit of a gadget freak, had a water softener installed, it must have been in the late 1950s. I don’t know the science, but as a small (4-5 year old child), I remember a tank in the kitchen somewhat resembling the large oxygen tanks you see at hospitals or in industrial plants. Pipes going in and coming out. Knobs, labeled “A,” “B,” and “C.” A hard-to-remove, screw-on, lid at the top. You poured the contents of large bags of salt crystals in through the top (even this was awkward, because the opening wasn’t large, and it was too high for a normal person to do it while standing on the floor, so you had to get a stepladder), and then you would set it off and start opening and closing the “A,” “B,” and “C” knobs, which would swoosh water out so you could catch it in a cup, stick your finger in, and taste it. You’d fiddle in this way until you got it tasting “right.” (I can’t remember what that means.) Then you’d stop adding salt and tighten all the knobs and be done until next time.
It was quite a performance.
Good going. I hope we won’t see you on the 11 o’clock news!
Aha! Here is a water-softener very much along the lines of ours. I don’t remember if this is the same brand. More photos here:
My wife’s English grandfather was a BOAC pilot in the days when pilots went through their own private customs check. He had put in a swimming pool at his house (a great rarity in the early 80s there), and needed a good water filter. So he had the thing (in a big crate) stowed in the hold before takeoff, and tucked a large can of ground coffee into the crate. On his customs declaration he put:
1 can coffee
1 filter
And thus avoided duties on the thing.
I like it.
As my ability of recollection continues to fade I’m grateful for the cloud based notes program on my iPhone and I’m grateful for the too often mayhem-borne Air Force discipline of “checklists”. Item 1: tools/supplies (e.g. bleach), item 2: fill container with water, item 3: shut off the pump, etc..
I’m grateful that I got my new glasses today after wearing a 4 year old set. I’m even more grateful that though I picked them out on my own, while not being able to see what they really looked like on me, my wife says they look ‘okay’.
@she I want you in my fallout shelter.
I’m honored. I also think your particular talents might be handy (h/t Miss Daisy) in such a situation.
I often meditate on what the appropriate time is to start drinking, usually at about 0700.
While I’m sipping my breakfast beer.
My grandfather left me a sign. “Somewhere in the world, the sun is over the yardarm.”
Finally, someone bringing the science.
Thanks!