Folks ---
Um. Had a tradidigy here yesterday.
Morning started off bad. Wife beat me up. 'Course that happens every mornin'. I really don't mind that 'cept then she wants me to get up too. Life is cruuuuel.
Then she come to me. "Water pressure ain't what it s'posed to be. Hope it hain't sprung a leak somewhere." We live out in the boonies, so have a well with pump 'n pressure tank. She wants me to take care of things like that.
So I went out to take a gander. Hmm. Breaker switch thrown, so I unthrown it. Didn't work, so I pulled the top off the pressure switch. Fuzz everywhere. Looked closer 'n dang if'n thar warn't a half bald mouse that got crosswise of the 220. Didn't do him no good, it didn't. Cooked every speck of moisture out of him and he was drier than a dust devil in the Mojave. Nothin' left but a little dried up bag of skin with bones in it.
Pulled him out of there while scratching my noggin wonderin' how the juice would make his fur fall out like that. Never did figger it out, 'cause it didn't just fall out - it was all over that switch.
But I cleaned it all up an' brushed the fur out. Turned the breaker on - an' it still didn't work. Dang. The short musta blown somethin' somewhere. Messed around with a multimeter an' found 220 in the breaker box. Found it across the connections in the switch too. Dang. That means a trip to town for a new switch. First, though, I pushed the contacts closed so the pump would run an' bring the pressure back up. Couldn't figger out why they wouldn't close without being pushed.
So I went to town and bought me a bran' new shiny store-boughten pressure switch fer $18.00, goofed around town fer a bit, then went back home.
Changed the switch out and it worked fine. But . . . I got to lookin' that old switch over 'cause I was curious why it wouldn't work. I was turnin' it this way an' that way when I saw something that didn't look right, way down in its gizzard where the shaft comes up out of the pressure chamber. Whot 't heck???
Took me a minute or so to figger out what it was. 'Twas a little frog what crawled in where he didn't belong an' got nailed. His carcass was what was hangin' up the works so the contacts couldn't close. I had to take him out in chunks with some needle-nosed tweezers, 'cause he was as dry as that mouse was. Main difference was that the juice knocked ALL the fur off the frog. Nekkid as a jaybird he was. Got rid of him quick so's no one would see and charge me with possession of obscene materials.
An' Texas thinks they gots problems with them crazy ants gittin' in their computers. Ha! I got all kinds o' varmits!
Come to think of it, I hain't never seed no nekkid jaybirds. Wonder whot they look like?
Thet old switch works fine now. . . .
Teary-eyed Tom