The Sprinkler Blowout Widow

It has been exactly one day since sprinkler blowout season officially began, and my wife, Sheila, has already become what we affectionately call a Sprinkler Blowout Widow around here.

Most people have heard of hunting widows. Every fall, hunting season arrives, and their spouses disappear into the mountains for days at a time. At our house, I don’t disappear into the mountains. I disappear into the office.

For the next seven to nine weeks, Sheila will occasionally catch a glimpse of me wandering through the house looking for food, a Coke Zero, or something I set down five minutes earlier and can no longer find. The rest of the time, she knows I’m still alive because she can hear me muttering at spreadsheets from the other room.

Opening Day Did Not Disappoint

Yesterday was opening day, and as expected, it came with a few hiccups. Nothing catastrophic, just the usual first-day reminders that no matter how much planning you do before sprinkler blowout season, human beings will eventually become involved.

Routes were built, compressors were running, sprinklers were being blown out, and customers were being taken care of. Somewhere along the way, however, a few things happened that left those of us in the office staring at the screen and asking one simple question:

“Why?”

Not an angry “why?” or an emergency “why?” Just that special kind of “why?” that makes you stare into the distance for a few seconds before taking another drink of Coke Zero.

We affectionately call those moments “Forrest moves,” and Opening Day supplied a few.

That’s okay. Opening Day is supposed to have hiccups. New routines are being learned, equipment is getting its first real workout of the season, and everyone is settling into the rhythm that will become second nature after a few days.

Besides, if everything went perfectly, I wouldn’t have anything to write about.

Meanwhile, Back at the Office…

The technicians work one shift during sprinkler blowout season.

I work three.

The first starts before the crews head out, making sure everyone has what they need, answering questions, handling whatever didn’t go according to plan, and pointing everyone in the right direction.

Once they’re on the road, shift number two begins. That’s answering texts, handling customer questions, invoicing completed jobs, dealing with the unexpected, and keeping everything moving behind the scenes.

Eventually, the technicians finish their routes and head home.

That’s when I start shift number three.

Completed jobs have to be reviewed, the next day’s routes have to be put together, customer information has to be organized, phone numbers have to be loaded, and everyone on the next day’s routes has to get a notification that we’re coming.

This is why Coke Zero isn’t really a beverage during sprinkler blowout season. It’s more of a life-support system. Frankly, I’d save a lot of time if someone just hooked me up to an IV.

Of course, sometime in the afternoon, narcolepsy occasionally decides that three shifts are excessive. I’ll be right in the middle of typing something, and suddenly it’s time for an unscheduled desk nap.

I prefer to think of it as my lunch break.

Without the lunch.

Today’s customer notifications went out last night with about two minutes to spare, which, by sprinkler blowout season standards, means I was practically early.

Life as a Sprinkler Blowout Widow

Meanwhile, Sheila has learned what the next seven to nine weeks will look like. There will be late nights, conversations interrupted by customer texts, dinners eaten at questionable hours, and evenings when we’re technically in the same house but haven’t actually seen each other.

Every once in a while, I’ll emerge from the office long enough for her to confirm that she still has a husband.

Then I’ll remember something I forgot to do and disappear again.

The good news is that sprinkler blowout season doesn’t last forever. Eventually the last routes will be finished, the compressors will be parked, the spreadsheets will stop multiplying, and I’ll return to something resembling normal life.

Until then, Sheila remains a Sprinkler Blowout Widow.

And this is only Day 2.

Seven to nine weeks to go.

Here are the routes for today:

Bryan in the Boise 83716 and 83712 with Purple Rain

Rubicon Drive
Trailridge Ave
Peppertree Avenue
Arborvitea Ct
Old Sport Lane
Mineral Drive
Jefferson Street
State St
San Felipe Way
Ashtree Way
Travertine Way
Ridge Point Place
Scyene Way
Toluka Way

Eddie in the Meridian 83642 with Blowzilla

Criterion St
Santa Clara Drive
Rutledge Ave
Sheryl St
Haven Cove Ave
Forecast Street
Stucker Avenue
Mineral Wells Avenue
Sonoma Drive
Lodestone Ave
Echo Canyon Avenue
Snow Canyon Street
Sunset Point Way
Balance Rock Dr
Murlo Way

Jesse in the Nampa 83687 with Leroy

Saint James Loop
Elk Falls Way
Yuma Way
Hampshire Lane
Gwinnett Avenue
Stark Dr
Breeds Hill Ave
Edgebrook Dr
Bridgeport Drive
Baymeadows Dr
Arlington Drive
Water Stone Ct
Parkdale Ave
Bratton Drive
Treeline Avenue
US 20
Quiet Springs Ave
Longtail Drive
Tanglewood Place