Right in the middle of a Very Important Rerun of Friends, Caitrin and I heard what no home owner wants to hear: urgently spraying water. Mid-knit stitch, I sent Caitrin to reconnoiter the sitch-yashun. Yep - spraying water and "Mom, hurry up it's getting everywhere!"
The Questa pipe (which I'm told by plumbers "sucks") burst and the hot water valve gave way. Between cursing, buckets, my head-to-foot wardrobe and Jon's sopping head, we stopped the flow enough to sleep without waking every ten minutes to empty a bucket. That meant no water all evening and night (which means we are now qualified for Survivor.... I found myself licking droplets off of abandonned dinner glasses...).
My dreams were nightmarish scenes of floods outside the house, in the house, under the floor boards and I spent all of those sleepy scenes soaking wet. It really was like sleeping under water. I was startled in the morning when my pj's weren't sticking to my skin!
I woke to a dry vanity... our temporary fix had at least forestalled further eruptions of H2O.
The plumbers came this morning and fixed both the leak and our upstairs shower nozzle (isn't it funny how you suddenly realize you have myriad plumbing needs at once?).
E.M. Forster wrote in A Room with a View that nothing preys on the mind like troubles with water. How true.