Twist went the knee.

Ouch, went me.

One of my least favorite spots on all the earth is a certain crawl space under the home of a certain Curdsville rancher. Why anyone would not build a full basement, a navigable crawl space, or have the good sense to put the water heater in an accessible spot is a bit beyond me. That design was before my time.

My story began with a rather unpleasant phone message from the wife. I had been working on my old jalopy when she called.

No water.

I was flushed with dread.

Water, the steady stream of life, the pool of cool, the splish of splash was cut off. And it's one of those things you sort of take for granted and miss when it's gone-like electricity.

Air conditioning.
Heat.

Air.

Good TV reception.

Ketchup.

As I hastened home, I had all but determined the issue was the well pump. The way things have been going lately, what was another headache on top of the others? It's always something, and (as I have said before) I'm really getting tired of things like tires getting thin, brake cylinders needing to be replaced, touching something to fix it, then breaking something else.

Yes, I assured myself, it was the well pump.

But as it turns out, it wasn't the pump, but the water heater, a bad element and an under-the-deck swimming pool. It's never good to hang around with bad elements.

So I was in hot water.

No, make that warm water.

Well, check that, cold water.

Thank goodness there was a cutoff for the water supply down in the crawl space so the family could at least have the cold water, but that doesn't do well for such things as washing clothes or washing self (though it can be a good wake-me-up). The bad water heater had to go bye, which meant more extended vacations to the noted crawl space.

It was on one such occasion in the throws of pushing and pulling an old or new unit either in or out that I twisted my left knee.

What I am finding interesting, however, as I strive to function while showing as little limp as possible is just how much pressure we normally place on our joints every day. They are made to twist, so it's hard not to twist. Just try and slide in and out of the driver's seat of your car without twisting your left foot.

So, at the moment, I'm no longer able to do the fox trot, dunk from the foul line, or do a standing flip-well, not that I could really do any of those things before, but now know better than to try.

I'll still have to walk a tight rope, though. Especially when it comes to column deadlines.