Bateman Street had a small disaster last night while I was at the Josh Ritter performance in the city (see below entry). Basically, we thought we had a gas leak earlier in the day, so we called in PG&E for an inspection. The valves for our gas connections were a little loose, it turns out. The guy fixed it, but during the inspection a weak water pipe burst. So I came home last night and couldn't use the sink. Sucks.

We called in plumber this morning, who is underneath my house at this very moment! I keep hearing a muffled voice call, "Bill, wiggle the pipe next to the stove. Can you do that, please, Bill?" Bill is our landlord; while Coronado is under the house Bill has to help him identify the pipes of concern.

C. told me that the PG&E guy went under our house last night, too. I can't believe it! Down there is a den of black widows and vicious, territorial raccoons. I guess that's the protocol when you are rooting out a reported gas leak, though. He probably got overtime for that.

Signing off.