My whole life is DIY. We live on a property in the Aussie Bush. We built our house out of trees that my husband cut up at our DIY timber mill. We pump our own water and run mostly on solar power. But every step of the way, there has been at least one 'DIY that went wrong' incident. Take water for instance. We have a pump by a creek to provide the majority of our water needs. We pump to a tank up the hill above the house and then gravity feed back to the kitchen, bathrooms, laundry and garden. We have a rainwater tank for drinking. Everything else depends on that pump.
I got home last night from work (yes, I work - we are a long way from self sufficiency!), to find that we were out of water. Hubby (aka Fatherfigure) went down in the dark and, with some difficulties (pump needed oil), he got it running. Went to bed without a shower, but thought "all will be well in the morning". Instead I woke up to the beginning of another day of DIY gone wrong.
As I walked out of the bedroom, there was Fatherfigure at the front door, a sour look on his face, announcing we were out of water again and he was sick of the whole thing and just to make things worse, we were out of petrol too. He stomped back outside. so I went downstairs, had a bit of brekky and then went out to help. He had siphoned petrol out of our most reliable farm vehicle, a World War II vintage American Blitz army truck. I offered to take the gas can down the hill and pump. I asked if I needed to take oil too but he said he had filled it the night before.
I slid down the hill because the DIY steps washed away in the winter rains, filled the pump, and then pulled the cord... and pulled, and pulled and kept pulling, till I was exhausted, but it wouldn't start. I climbed back up the hill and told Fatherfigure. He sighed and said he thought there was something wrong with a doohickey on the thingamabob and we would have to change pumps (we have three... because one is always breaking).
So that meant finding tools and a bucket and going back down the hill with the 'new' pump. It took quite a greasy while to get the old one unhooked and get the other one on. While Fatherfigure tightened all the nuts and screwed in the fittings, I took the bucket, made my way through the last six month's undergrowth (note to self: bring clippy-shears down here and clear up this mess!), managed to reach clean water without going up to my ankles in the mud.
I slopped the bucket back up to the pump and poured in the water. It filled right up so there was no need for a second trip to the river (thank goodness for small mercies). Then the good ol' Honda engine started on the first pull. Gotta love 'em for that. Last checks: yes the water was going up the hill. yes there was still a leak in the pipe halfway up but not enough to lose too much. We clambered back up the bank, tools and old pump in arms. I only slipped backwards once or twice (note to self: bring shovel and fix steps again). Staggered back up to house, dumped tools, used rags to clean off grease and mud (no water still until we bleed the air out of the system)
Went in and took a berocca in a big glass of water followed by a cuppa and a sandwich in front of the tv (barramundi fishing in the far north - wished I was there, and, yes we do have all the mod cons in spite of having 'only' solar power).
Then I went up the hill to make sure the water was reaching the tank. Oh what a lovely sight: it was full and the magical rainbow substance was pouring out of the top. I went back down and turned the pump off. then went to the garden at the bottom of the system and turned on all the taps to drain the air out of the system.
I watered the chooks, gathered the eggs, then turned off all the taps when the bubbles were finished bubbling out, came back up and decided to tell the Helium audience about my adventures. I thought a good title would be Humor: Self Sufficiency, but there was no such title, so I thought: well it certainly fits DIY gone wrong!
So that's my story except for the punchline: Fatherfigure had to admit to me that HE had been the one to drain the house dry. He had left the hose on the deck running after he had washed off some stuff. He apologised and being a good wife, I said 'That's ok, we ALL do it sometimes...", but inside I was saying: "YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS! It was HIS mistake for a change!"
Cheers from Down Undah, M'Gee on the Farm