Smaller states of emergency
Sunday, September the 14th at 6:54 AM
in the Year of Our Lord Two Thousand and Eight (2 months, 1 week ago)
R
ight now the gulf coast, specifically the Texas coastline, is getting pummeled by hurricane Ike. I believe it was a Category 2 storm at landfall, which isn't historical, but the diameter of the thing is immense. Suffice to say, it's another reminder that dodging the occasional tornado and shoveling snow are manageable hardships up here in the heart of the Yankee North.
We definitely don't suffer during hurricane season the way our southern coastal brethren do, though we see some of the fallout in the form of copious rain over several days straight. Water, being the most insidious of uninvited guests in one's home (save cats and spiders) needs to be dealt with pretty aggressively.
We've had leaky gutters since we bought this place. They were filled with junk, had collapsed in a few spots, and were dumping water right down the south wall of the sanctuary. Lichens were growing on the brick, and the mortar was getting eaten away year after year. Even worse, all this water was getting poured right on the base of the building, and as the ground became soaked, it would start to look for ways into our basement. Thus, it was with great joy that we finally got new, over-sized gutters installed last week, right before a lot of this second-hand rain started lashing our village.
I'd also put two large dehumidifiers in the basement, and we already had a sump well & pump. I felt ready to weather the storms. Then sometime last week the sump pump died, and the well filled up to capacity, and the water rose across the entirety of the basement to about 2 inches deep. Rough calculations tell me this is over 2,300 gallons of fetid, smelly, bug-carcass-filled rain water. It was cold, slimy, & gross. I wore my sandals and swim trunks to slosh around and fish the dead sump pump out of its hidey-hole.
The circuit it was on had tripped, and I stood on a plastic bucket to turn it back on (assuming the juice might travel too easily through the swampwater if there was a short in the pump). The pump didn't fire, and the circuit didn't trip. I pulled the pump and replaced it (cold, wet pvc work in poorly lit flooded basements has not become my new favorite thing, surprisingly). I plugged in everything, stood on my bucket (safety first) and flipped the switch. The pump sprang to life, and I started to see debris and bugs flowing gently in the direction of the sump well. Victory!
I went to work, came back 5 hours later, and found another dead pump and an inch of water waiting for me. Defeat!
Turns out one of my dehumidifiers would kick on while the sump was running and their combined draw was enough to kill the circuit. Delicious irony, or fist-shaking, cursing homeowner? It was both.
Today two of my awesome neighbors, easily bought with the promise of free beer and Mirus t-shirts, helped me pull out an old couch, several rolls of carpet, two sets of box-springs and mattresses (sorry mom, we lost the queen-size NFL branded mattress) and some other random wet junk from the basement. One of them has access to a local dump, and will get rid of it all, free of charge. He's in for a lot more of Sally's beer now that I know this.
I've still got standing water in a few rooms down there, but I bought a squeegee and some new shelving, and I plan on getting everything off the floor that's worth keeping, throwing away the rest, and pushing all the remaining water to the sump well.
As I write this, dawn has arrived (sleep is a dry luxury lately). I can see my front yard has large, pools of water, and still the rain comes. The watery horde is gaining strength and masses on all sides. It's testing us - probing our defenses. It tasted victory and wants more.
I gird myself with a belt of extension cords, adorned with hose clamps. I arm myself with the floor squeegee and a grimace. I am followed to the ramparts by my humming dehumidifiers, eager to remove the stain of disgrace from their circuit-overloading antics. If I don't return, I wish to be buried with my wife and cats, regardless of their current disposition.
No Comments Yet
I before E except after C...
Fancy comments are frowned upon - your WWW links will work though.
Want your own rockin' icon by your comment? Go to www.gravatar.com.
Want your own rockin' icon by your comment? Go to www.gravatar.com.
Last words
1 week, 6 days ago
1 week, 6 days ago
I had never thought of flinging feces, darn it, that would be much more entertaining than my usual method of arguing about politics, baseless accusations and bewildering metaphores.
view
2 weeks ago
Mmmmm.... sharpies.
view
3 weeks ago
I saw this as the daily photo, and it totally looked like a picture of outer space! But instead it's an egg on a car.
view
1 month ago
if("location"=="bathroom");
this.user.gotoAndPlay("decide #1or#2");
else(user.holdframe);
There ya go - that outta work. view
this.user.gotoAndPlay("decide #1or#2");
else(user.holdframe);
There ya go - that outta work. view
Recent photo sets
Invaded by The General
New concrete for the Old Power Plant
Tongue & Groovy
Water Water Everywhere
Getting in the gutter, and loving it.
Posts in Time
