It’s Official

Frank Gehrke, chief of snow surveys for the California Department of Water Resources, left, leads his group out to measure snow levels near Echo Summit, Calif., on Friday, Jan. 3, 2014. The readings Friday showed the water content in the statewide snowpack at just 20 percent of average for this time of year.
Photo: Steve Yeater, Associated Press

Friday, Governor Brown declared that we are officially in a drought, making way for federal relief efforts and initiatives to move water from areas that are still well supplied to more parched areas. (Jerry Brown was also governor in the 70s when we had another extremely serious drought. Should we blame him, perhaps?)

We are asked to reduce our water use by 20%, though at this point it’s still voluntary, meaning no fines if we fail to do so. We don’t have grass, and I’m stingy with the water anyway, so our plants only get watered maybe once a week if they’re lucky. We already have a high efficiency washing machine, I’m pretty sure our dishwasher is more water efficient than the one we used to have (though I couldn’t swear to that…I’m not sure how water efficient dish washers can get), and we bought low flow toilets 4 or 5 years ago, when we discovered ours both had slow leaks. We can wash things like towels less often, try not to wash our clothes quite as often (like a sweater maybe could be worn twice before being washed, that kind of thing). The main change is my least favorite. Drought-showers. I doubt we’ll get to the point of keeping a bucket in the shower to gather water, and then bring it downstairs to water the plants (too messy), but still. For those of you in wetter states who may not know, here’s how to take a drought shower.

  • Turn on water. Get in shower.
  • Get wet. Shampoo hair. If you’re REALLY good, you turn off the water while washing hair, but I don’t.
  • Rinse hair. Now you turn off the water. Brrr, that air is kind of chilly. You know, California chilly…it’s been lovely and 70 degrees most days, hence the drought.
  • Apply hair conditioner.
  • Soap up your body.
  • If you are going to shave your legs, now is the time to do so. You may turn the water back on, but not the shower, just a trickle from the spout to rinse the razor.
  • After you’ve finished shaving, you may turn the shower back on, rinse your body, your hair, and wash your face.
  • Forget standing there in the glorious warm water and letting it relax your muscles. This is a drought, and times are tough. Suck it up, turn off the water, and get out.

Blech. I hate drought. Usually our hills are lush and green this time of year. Now they’re brown and dead, as though it were summer. Stupid summer.

There’s still time to turn it around…a few really good soakers would help a lot. A few good storms and a generally wet spring would save our bacon. The ski resorts are having a hell of a time keeping people up in the mountains, because man made snow just doesn’t really cut it when it’s all there is. The farmers are worried because they are going to be really short on water, which affects crops (obviously) and grain prices to feed their livestock, etc. I used to have a friend whose father was a farmer, and in dry years, he would sometimes sit it out, and just sell his water rights to other farmers.

Have I mentioned that I love rain, and I hate drought? If you know any rain dances, please hop to it, because I’d love for this to just be OVER already.

10 Comments

  • Veronica

    I’ve read your posts about the rain shortfalls and droughts for quite a while, and my heart sinks a bit. Droughts unsettle me at a primal level. It’s the reason I’m so uncomfortable even visiting the desert. I hope you all get relief soon.

    • J

      Veronica, don’t move to California. Our long dry summers would probably bother you. They bother me, and I’ve lived here most of my life. Then again, no humidity in the summer, so it’s not all bad.

  • Nance

    I hate showers anyway. I’m always cold in them. I prefer a nice, long soaky bath which, I guess for you, is now a felony offense. I’m truly sorry. If only all of these Alberta Clippers that continue to bring us snow could somehow be rerouted! I’d gladly share/give up the precipitation for a whole month, especially January. And you could have April, too, which has historically been snowy.

    Keeping my fingers crossed for you.

    • J

      Ugh, I hate baths. I feel like I’m soaking in my own filth. And I don’t mean that I’m truly filthy or anything, I just hate them. Perhaps it comes from never having lived anywhere with a wonderful big deep bath tub. I like the jacuzzi ones that some hotels have. I remember when I was pregnant, and everyone said a bath would help my aching back. I tried, and would ask Ted, plaintively, “Can I get out now? Please?” His response was something like, “um, yeah, of course”, because duh, he didn’t MAKE me take a bath.

      Thank you for the offer of your precipitation. I hope someone is listening.

    • J

      Thanks, RM. It’s crummy. Looking at the perspective of things, however, it’s not much of a real problem. People could lose their farms, their jobs, their homes from this drought, and I’m griping about my shower situation. Seems kind of silly.

      We were just watching an interesting show on PBS about the history of a 98 room mansion here in the Bay Area. It was gorgeous. Then they showed shots of the ’89 earthquake, with people smashed between levels of the freeway in Oakland, horrid things, and the comment was that this (at the time uninhabited) mansion was damaged. Sorry, don’t show pictures of a freeway that’s crushed people and talk about a house, and expect anyone to give a damn about the house. Ted thought it was completely tone deaf, and he was right.

      Not what you meant by your comment at all, as you were kindly bemoaning my crummy shower situation. Just feeling a bit of perspective creeping over me is all.

  • Ally Bean

    A decent long hot shower is my respite at the end of the day. I wouldn’t do well in a drought. I applaud you on your ability to adapt and overcome. Is there any end is sight for this drought? Are they cyclical– or is this a permanent weather change?

    • J

      They’re cyclical Ally, we will surely have wet winters again.

      To quote John Steinbeck,
      “And it never failed that during the dry years the people forgot about the rich years, and during the wet years they lost all memory of the dry years. It was always that way.”

      Of course, records show that some of those cycles are quite long, and we don’t yet know how climate change will affect us, or when.

  • Christine

    Wow! We don’t suffer much from drought here. Well, occasionally, but not too often. We get a lot of snow here, so when it’s time for the snow to melt, the water has to go somewhere!

    I was thinking of how we have no water right now, but it’s because our water pipes froze. I had to go and melt snow to make water. True story. This city girl is in culture shock even after being on the Island for 10 years!

    • J

      Chrissy, I remember one year when we were living in Philly, we had a drought, which was entirely different than a California drought. It rained, I guess just not as much. In California, our water comes from snow run off from the Sierra Nevada mountain range, whereas on the east coast it’s ground water or rivers or something I never exactly figured out. I do know that the water tasted foul, and we had to start buying drinking water at the store.

      Regarding boiling snow for water, you remind me both of the Little House books, and of my time in Alaska, when we didn’t have running water. We would melt snow or else get it from the frozen river to wash dishes. I remember stories of my mom shooting a hole in the ice to get water, but that doesn’t even make sense if there was snow around to melt. I wish she were still alive so I could ask her. Maybe I’ll ask Richard. He was 6 to my 4 those days, and remembers a lot more than me.