I was not in Toledo during last year’s water crisis, but we followed it closely through the media. The advisory was lifted the day we returned with our car loaded down with water purchased along the way. So we’re prepared with several cases of water in the basement.
We didn’t turn to the bottles last night, though, when we cleaned the kitchen sink, lined it with a towel, and added warm water to give Aloisa a bath.
The sink has rarely been cleaner. Except for the part that involved her ears, Aloisa seemed to enjoy the experience. And after some consideration I decided that I trust in the safety of Toledo water, even for my six-week old granddaughter.
I remember a story, perhaps apocryphal, from my childhood. We lived in a rural area, and our water came from an artesian well. A relative and neighbor, after boasting of the quality of her own well water, discovered that the well had been the final resting place of a recently-disappeared barn cat. Perhaps not as scary as microsystin, but disgusting.
I won’t be bragging about Toledo water anytime soon, but I’m grateful for its abundance and, for now, trusting in its safety.