What kind of supreme being would condone such irony?

Welcome, sports fans! Our score in the great Running Water playoff so far:

Uncle Murphy - 5

Uncle Joel - Bupkis, Baby!  Goat Shit!  Nada!

(ahem) To recap: The large hydrant which sends water to Landlady's House, and also incidentally provides water via hoses to any other random place you might need water, is physically broken. I don't yet know for a fact but presently assume this is the reason not one single drop of water will flow to either of these locations.

There is a broken pipe somewhere in the barn. I haven't had the heart to go look for it. So while water pressure is currently available to the barn, its only utility is to flood the floor.

In attempting to turn off the valve directing water to the barn, both ears of the valve handle broke off in my hand - in spite of the fact that the valve is less than three years old, underground, enclosed inside a valve housing, and not exposed to UV radiation.

Grrr ... BOTH - Count'em! - BOTH FREAKING VALVES on the kitchen sink of Joel's Interim Lair have suffered some sort of terminal damage. Having gotten water to flow into the sink, I actually UNSCREWED ONE OF THEM RIGHT OUT OF THE SINK TRYING TO GET IT TO STOP.

So the only location on Landlady's property which currently enjoys the blessings of running water is the former location of Claire's Lair, a fifth-wheel trailer which was SOLD AND TOWED AWAY LAST SUMMER. [/hyperventilation]

Yes, the only place we have running water is the only place we don't need or even want it. The good news is that at that location, it works quite well.

Oh, and that check valve the plumber installed last night? Leaks like a sieve. The powershed floor is flooded again.

I hate plumbing. And winter. I hate plumbing and winter.

And sobriety. I hate plumbing and winter and sobriety.

ETA: Mayberry's got the right idea here: (NSFW)