I was in a decent mood until then; not singing the praises of daisies and rainbows, but not unhappy either.
I was minding my own business, recovering from a packed weekend, picking up around the house, reading a little sci-fi. I should have recognized the signs. I received a clear one only a day or two beforehand and completely ignored it, unable to recognize it for what it was.
"Mom, I think there's a snake in the garage!"
"Why do you think that?"
"Because I hear it hissing."
I open the garage door, hear the water heater heating the water, explain it to my son and voila...no snake monster in the garage.
The only problem is that it wasn't simply the water heater heating the water. No, in addition to the normal everyday noises that happen in every house, there was a a sinister low hiss; one that can only be heard when everything else is silent.
I've heard that hiss many times...probably up to 6 times by now.
The Death Hiss--that's what I'm calling it from now on.
It's the maddening sound of a pinhole leak in copper piping, and I've heard it more than I've ever wanted to.
Our pipes would be more valuable if they were ripped out of our house and stamped into pennies. At least I could buy a loaf of bread with them.
Actually, that analogy isn't true. They are worth about $5,000--the cost of re-piping the entire house in PVC, pinhole-proof, piping.
Hence my bad mood...my utter frustration....my outrage at the copper gods of the universe.
Curse you, copper! You dastardly 29th element.
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