Dry containers and wet tears

Yesterday was a bit grim but is now behind us.

For a few hours, there was not a drop of water in the house as the bottles were empty and the Farmer had gone to fill the big containers.
The children and PieDog drank milk and Caused Mayhem.

I spent most of the day on the verge of tears. I don't cry often but tend to save it all up for a real blubfest. A veritable feast of tears, snot, misery and despair. A feast so grim, only the solitary diner may sate on it's desolate fare.

The children were bribed with food, milk and the promise of a treat if they behaved and settled to watch Elf. They were both on the mend but sniping and annoying one another.
I would then be able to get on with giving the house a domestic enema as it was so bunged up with clutter and junk that you could not walk properly through the halls.
Masses of amorphous clutter were thrown into bags and put outside. I was being indiscriminate and it felt good. An entire carpet, largely unseen for months, began to emerge as a butterfly from a chrysalis.
It scrubbed up well and I felt quite pleased with the result.

I joined the children in the living room. They were engrossed with Elf.
Now, Elf draws you in..... and I was ok until the Spirit of Christmas part, then my bottom lip stuck out like an overfull drawer.
When they all began to sing and the sleigh was powered by the collective belief in Father Christmas, I fell apart.

Not wanting to frighten the children, I went upstairs for a Good Greet, as they say in Scotland.
I dredged up every miserable thought that there was and some more, just in case........ I gorged from the Table of Gloom like Eeyore with tapeworms.

It felt good, cathartic and I went to wash my face to reduce it to less gargoyle proportions.

Except there was no water. Well, bucketloads, actually, pouring down my red, puffy face. Again.

The Farmer came back not long after with the large containers full of water. "Away off to your bed, lass, you look tired".......

We all slept well last night and this morning, I could hear the tractor very close to the house then banging noises and the smell of the gas burner going.
The Farmer's face looked all flushed with exertion but he looked pleased.
"You'll get water from the taps now".
He had filled a huge 350 gallon tank, transported it up the road then plumbed it in to the existing water supply.
It will last a couple of days then need to be dismantled and refilled up the road but we can shower and use the washing machine and everything.

I start crying again but out of sheer joy and relief. I am crying because I love him.

I feel purged of the misery and washed it away.