It seems that a person - any person - you or me, for instance - comes to rely on clean, running water on demand. We have a hard time imagining a world like Shakespeare's in which daily, weekly, monthly bathing was practically unheard of - odd behavior indeed - and indoor water-powered toilet facilities a laughable fantasy. We, however, have come to need it not only for our bodies but for our minds as well.

The water main was patched and ready for inspection by about 6 this evening, but the Village people did not arrive soon enough for Dominic to join us out for dinner. Dominic is our sainted, long-suffering prior and deserves better than this building's funky demeanor. On our return we find that water has technically returned to the building, but toilets do not flush and showers dribble. I stood beneath the dribble for awhile and savored its merciful dripple dropple.

Tomorrow is another day.