A Sink and a Rat

The House Above Heck Creek is going to be rather simple by most standards and we’re not planning on installing a dishwasher.  With just Ralph and me, most of the time there aren’t too many dishes to wash.   Ralph usually does the cooking and I wash up.  I envision one of those old fashioned, white enameled, cast iron farm sinks with a single bowl in the middle and drainboards on each side in the kitchen of the House above Heck Creek.  It just seems so practical.  You could put dishes waiting to be washed on one side and a dish drainer on the other.  Those plastic mats that go under the dish drainer are always grungy looking and never seem to deliver all the water to the sink. 

the sink I'd like to have

We just haven’t been able to find a sink in good condition at a reasonable price.  So, Ralph posted a want ad on Craig’s List.  Soon we hear from Bill who says he has a sink.  That weekend Ralph and I headed out in the pickup for the little town of Wasola, MO.  Bill had told Ralph to be prepared to get dirty and to bring a flashlight.  I’ve always heard tell of people finding forgotten furniture and other treasures in old barns and attics--maybe a nice table or dresser would be lurking under the dust in Bill’s storage building?  (Or maybe not.)

About an hour later we met up with Bill and his sixteen-year-old son Eli in Wasola and followed them to Bill’s storage building.  Bill told us he had been a truck driver until his back began to bother him.  He looked like the “good ol’ boy” type with a beer gut hanging over his belt.  Eli looked like he was going to grow up to be just like his dad. 
 
My first thought when I stepped into Bill’s storage building was that I was glad my tetanus shot was up to date.  In a former life, the building had been Bill’s father’s auto repair shop.  The floor was littered with oily car parts, broken headlights, bits of hoses and belts, pipes, sheet metal, rusty metal pieces, soft drink bottles and cans, nuts, bolts, screws, nails and other debris, all topped with about a dozen  rolls of yellow fiber glass insulation--no bare floor in sight.  It reminded me of some of the photos of Joplin after the tornado hit last May.   

Bill's storage building with Eli

We clambered over and through all the junk to the back corner where the sink sat.  Yes, it was a white enameled, cast iron sink with a single bowl and two drainboards, and (as far as I could tell under all the grime) it was in good shape.   Then Bill opened the cabinet under the sink and there was a huge rat’s nest with a huge rat in it.
 

rat

“I hate rats!” shouted Bill.  “The only thing I hate worse is ‘possums.  Eli, find me a stick!” 

Eli rummaged around for a minute and produced an aluminum carpenter’s level about four feet long with a broken bubble tube . 

“That’ll do!” shouted Bill, taking the level from Eli and commencing to poke and prod in the rubble around the sink cabinet.

“I see it!”   Whack, whack, whack. “I hate rats!”  Bill triumphantly held aloft a rather large rat by the tail, slinging rat’s blood everywhere including all over the sink.

Now, I’m not especially squeamish and I’m not fond of rats, but I do find the killing of anything with such fervor and glee unsettling.
 
Maybe I’ll make do with this sink from Ikea.