SUNDAY: I couldn’t have gotten through last Sunday (or the rest of the week) without my handy Crocs rubbers. My basement was covered with three inches of water----every square in of it---and that’s how I know that Mother Nature has a sense of humor. She decided if I was going to bellyache about feeling guilty over my good fortunes in life (see my April 24th post) then she’d give me something to cry about. The sump pump that I often wondered what it did in the basement besides scare the bejesus out of me out failed while trying to keep up with the 100 year flood and record rain falls in my township. The guys who came today to pump the basement out couldn’t keep up with the water coming in from the broken sump pump so they packed up their hoses and left me standing in the water saying they’d be back at 8:00 AM Tuesday, assuming I could arrange for a plumber to install a new sump pump by then.
MONDAY: I woke up
at the crack of dawn, so I
could get a hold of the plumbing service where I left an S.O.S. late yesterday. Their
White-Knight-to-the-Rescue showed up at 2:00 PM
and left an hour later after handing me a bill for $275. The rest of the afternoon
I spent behind a push broom, creating a series of mini wakes in an attempt to
help the water find the new sump pump.
TUESDAY: I was back in the Crocs rubbers this morning so I could alternate between watching the
water extraction guys work in the basement and worrying that it wasn’t going as
fast as I wished. After four hours of sucking up the standing water, they placed industrial
fans and a refrigerator-sized heater/dehumidifier in the basement and together
they sound like I have a couple of jet airplanes warming up down there. (I don't even want to think about what this will do to my electric bill.) Then the crew made a series of appointments with me before leaving, for them to move their equipment around each day. I guess you could say they’re my new best
friends. After they left, an old friend who owes a clean up service came over
to help me get the worst of the wet and ruined stuff out of the basement.
WEDNESDAY: It was back in my Crocs rubbers to work in the
basement where the Mold Prevention Patrol showed up to do a treatment. So far
this little flood zone has cost me roughly $3,500 and the bills aren't all in yet. The landscape guy was here today, too. He added a 50 foot temporary
drain extension at the end of my sump pump pipe to drain the water farther away from the house and my soggy yard. Now, my house can correctly be described as the one with a river running towards the storm drain. When I wasn’t downstairs I was hauling
stuff to the deck in an attempt to dry it out in the sun.
THURSDAY: The
‘fans and giant dryer’ guys came back in the morning to move their equipment round
down in the basement. This afternoon I was able to breath easier and go on a tour I’d
signed up for weeks ago through the senior center. It was to the 911 dispatch
center that handles all the 911 calls for 4-5 counties. It was an interesting tour but it brought some unexpected bad
memories to the surface of times when I had to call 911 for Don. At one point those
old “flee” or “cry in place” widow feelings washed over me, but I toughed it
out and did neither one.
FRIDAY: When I
wasn’t working in the basement I was thinking about the damage down there. My
basement wasn’t a finished basement so my flooding could have been far worse. There are people in town who still can't live in their houses due to water damage---several weeks after the river crested---and other people in high rises who just this week were given permission to take their insurance adjusters in to see their water logged cars that were in the underground parking area. Due to electrical issues those people living in high rises still can't move back home again either. The
most important things I lost---at least to me---was an old leather suitcase
full of Valentines from the 1800s and my artwork dating back to my college years and after---four
decades worth of folders full of drawings, etchings, lithographs and painted
canvases. I’m telling myself that losing the artwork can be a blessing in
disguise, a gift from Mother Nature. When I get around to taking up art again---which is on my Bucket
List---I won’t have to compete with the talent of my youth. I can start fresh
with no expectations or mourning over skills I might have lost in recent years.
SATURDAY: I got a break from the flood zone and went to an outdoors wedding in the country. It was a beautiful, sunny day and I was so happy the couple didn't get the 40% chance of rain that was in the forecast. The reception was inside a near-by barn and it was a fun
way to end an exhausting week. As often as I saw the water extraction crew this
week, though, I should have asked the crew leader to be my date for the wedding. (He really liked the 'art studio' I set up in the basement and if there hadn't been a forty year age gap between us, I would have called it flirting.) Oh, well, I’ll see him and his crew on Monday, I hope for
the very last time because that will mean the "jet planes" are no longer needed in the basement. I want to get my basement put back together again and to put all this behind me over the next week or two!! ©
