Cave Woman's Continuing Adventures

It's always something. Some irritating, costly, demoralizing malfunction, break down, damage or disappointment. Nothing tragic or truly horrible - just enough aggravation to keep Cave Woman's protruding brow furrowed in a permanent scowl. For the last month, it has been the case of the undead water softener.

The drain pipe shared by the washing machine and the water softener began leaking for no reason. At first, a bucket beneath the offending pipe was sufficient for laundry. Eventually that was no longer a solution so Cave Woman began washing clothes just down the road at Cave Girl's house. (Planning to build a new home this year, C.W. refuses to invest money in a house slated for demolition.) But the mystery of water on the floor was eventually traced to the mindless and relentless water softener, a true puzzle of alien dials, arcane push levers, and ticking dials. It stopped processing water through the salt bin and simply began draining gallons of water every day at the same time. There is only one electrical cord and when that was pulled, it did not stop the ticking or the running water filling the bucket faster than it could be emptied, so Cave Woman assumed it was not the correct electrical cord, though she could not find another likely one.

Each day has been a struggle to find the correct combination of timing to allow intervention in the mechanical processing of water before it filled the bucket and caused another mopping chore. Last night, in desperation, the face plate was removed from the control panel and a green wire unhooked from what was assumed to be the timing controls. It appeared they stopped ticking. Poor, stupid Cave Woman. She believed she had triumphed over the terminator water machine and went to bed happy. Stepping in cold water this morning on the way to the bathroom reminded her that Cave People must try harder.

Angrily, C.W. assaulted the @^% #@!!~ $ +)^%#** controls, pounding on them with a screw driver - to no effect. Using her finger to poke into a nest of strange and alien flat wiring sent a mighty blast of electricity into Cave Woman's right index finger. It still hurts, but that evil alien water zombie is finally dead. It is unplugged now from its electrical source and the timer is no longer wired together. If it starts draining water again, Cave Woman is going to smash the whole thing with a big freakin' rock. Electricity bad. Rock good.