Finally, just days ago, I took action, shutting off power to the water pump and using a borrowed miniature tube cutter to slowly cut out the two offending connectors. Upon closer inspection, it turns out that whoever had originally installed the copper pipes had done a poor job sealing the terminals, mangling the pipe-ends badly and failing to seat them properly. Such was the damage to one of the pipes leading into the t-joint that it pulled away from its housing effortlessly, paper-thin metal crumbling to the touch.
Luckily for fools such as me, a local home-improvement retailer sells (nearly) fool-proof replacement connectors of the push-fit, compression type, with which I am able to solve my problems without setting the basement on fire trying to sweat a line that sits within the house's wooden superstructure. I say nearly because I have proven myself to be a fool, not following directions and erring in the installation of one of the new joints, which I must now remove, and replace. This time, however, I shall double-check things and take my time, as I should have done in the first place, worthless and impatient blockhead that I am. While it is not so bad urinating off of the rear deck and washing the dishes using rain-water, I am loathe to let solid wastes sit for too long in the toilet bowl, since they stink quickly and must be flushed with creek-water, which is a bitch to haul. Soon enough, however, fellow fault fixers, I shall rectify this plumbing problem, celebrating my return to the ranks of the modern and the civilized person by having a nice, leisurely dump, inside.
場黑麥 mentiri factorem fecit
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