I tittered at the name splashed across the package. “Pocket Hose. The House That Grows.
garden, landscaping, product review, technology
If you ever find yourself on IA 13 in Northeast Iowa, you really must take a detour through Strawberry Point. This charming little town with a population of just 1,200 souls features the world’s largest strawberry, an old hotel that’s still in operation and a working soda fountain. What is not to love?!
In this information age, with limitless information literally at your fingertips via Google and the like, it can feel like you’re capable of doing just about anything yourself. Who needs a pro when you have a search engine? Just because you can diagnose a problem, however, doesn’t necessarily mean you should try to fix it yourself.
city boys, making do, small town life
Good Health & Hot Water: Don’t Know What You’ve Got ‘Til It’s Gone
06/15/2014
Friday the 13th hit the dream house like a curse.
First, I’ve been battling a cold that has practically crippled me all week. Instead of working on house projects this week I’ve spent most of my time lying in bed watching episode after episode of Mad Men and sleeping for 12-hour stretches. I’ve probably slept more in the past five days than I have all month. I’ve also polished off two seasons of Mad Men. So, you know, it wasn’t all bad.
To top off the poor health, our water heater seems to be on the fritz. After rushing through a very cold shower Friday morning, I self-diagnosed the water heater issue and then called a plumber. It seems that the pilot light isn’t staying lit and thus the water heater isn’t cycling on to produce hot water. A plumber came by Friday afternoon and, based on my diagnosis, said that the pilot probably wasn’t getting enough oxygen and was therefore being smothered. He loosened some screws on the front of the water heater and said we should be good to go.
Desperate for some relief for my runny nose and chest congestion, I was looking forward to a long, hot shower Friday night. You can imagine my disappointment when I turned the hot water dial and felt the lukewarm water running out of the faucet. It seems that even with the water heater turned up to the highest setting, the one that says, “Warning: this water will scald you skin!” the most I could get was warm water.
I started calling plumbers again Saturday morning, starting with the same plumber who had provided the “quick fix” on Friday. No answer. I tried three other plumbers that I found in the yellow pages of the phone book (how quaint, right?) and still no answer. And that’s when I remembered: we’re not in the city anymore.
Back in the city I would have hundreds of options for plumbers and, while it probably would have been expensive, getting one to come out on a Saturday wouldn’t have been a problem. Out here in small town Iowa, where things are a little slower and options are limited, it’s mostly impossible to get a plumber to come to the house on a weekend day.
While we wait out the weekend we’re taking pioneer baths – boiling big pots of water on the stove, dumping them into the bathtub and then adding warm water until it’s the perfect temperature. There have been lots of Little House on the Prairie jokes while we’ve been doing this. “Ma, tell Laura to bring me more hot water for the bath!” and that sort of thing. Hey, when you’re faced with a difficult situation, make jokes. That’s how we roll anyway.
Image: This American House
Whenever we start talking about our house, especially to our city friends, one of the first questions we get is, “Why Iowa?” We usually pause a moment and maybe mutter something about how we fell in love with the house and that’s what brought us to the Hawkeye State. But, actually, our connection to Iowa goes a little deeper than that.
When I first meet people in our new hometown they inevitably ask, “So what brought you to Iowa? Are you from here? Do you have family around here?” The short answer is no. Neither of us were born in Iowa nor do we have any family in the state. (Well, actually, The Mister has a cousin and great-aunt in Iowa but that was something we learned only after we bought the house.) Although we lack a familial history in Iowa, we do have a very special connection to the state.
Our first experiences in Iowa came about when we started taking summer trips to escape city life. We found a state park in Iowa that rented cabins and each time we stayed there we would comment that it seemed like the perfect place. The landscape was beautiful, the people were friendly and we were within driving distance of the city. On each of these trips we would joke about moving to Iowa someday.
And then, on April 3, 2009, Iowa became the third U.S. state, and the first in the Midwest, to allow same sex marriage. Shortly thereafter The Mister proposed getting hitched in Iowa. I had long maintained that I didn’t see the point of getting married unless it was in our home state. But, then, Iowa is right next door to Illinois and, well, I’m a sucker for love. And so it was on this day, June 9th, back in 2009, that The Mister and I made the trek from Chicago to Iowa City, where, after ten years as a committed couple, we legally wed.
It was a wonderful experience. We were delighted to finally be afforded the same marriage rights as opposite sex couples, even if it wasn’t in our home state. And we were relieved to find that the people of Iowa seemed genuinely happy for us. As we made our way to the courthouse to file our paperwork, we were congratulated by strangers. At the bed and breakfast where we stayed, a straight couple who had just been married gave use some of their leftover flowers and congratulated us on finally being able to wed. On that summer day five years ago, we became instant fans of the state of Iowa. Unlike Wisconsin and Indiana, where we had experienced some rather blatant homophobia, Iowa fully embraced us.
We had no idea that we would one day actually own a home in Iowa. It seemed like a silly pipe dream when we would talk about ditching city life for a simpler way of living in Iowa. And, yet, here we are, the proud owners of a historic home in a small town. And here we are, a married couple who is treated like any other couple, embraced by the community and welcomed with open arms.
To you, Iowa, we say thank you. Thank you for being a forerunner in the fight for gay marriage. (Have you noticed how all the other states are starting to follow suit? You’re such a trendsetter, Iowa!)
And thank you for being populated by friendly folks, Iowa. We’re proud to say we’re one of you now.
Image: This American House
