Flooded Again

One of those evenings (I won't say "one of those days," because the day, though a long one in terms of hours awake and meetings attended, actually was't bad). I took The Boy to his guitar lesson, then had to make the trek to Kohl's to buy him a white shirt and black pants for a school choral concert tomorrow. (Yes, it's true--heathenish non-church-goers are usually on the losing end of white-shirt ownership.) He actually looked rather dashing--the pants have pinstripes and were even ON SALE, because it's Wednesday and Kohl's always has sales on Wednesdays.

But the actual "those" part of the evening was getting home, going into the basement, and realizing we were flooded from the torrential, daylong rain. Not as badly as in the past, and nothing like what we experienced before we built a retaining wall in front of our basement doors. (More details about why of our screwy driveway--thanks, Town of Lexington!--and the horrible icy water experience here.) Naturally, Jim--who rarely travels for work--is out of town.

So on came the waterproof boots and a jacket, and out came the electric pump and hose. After about half-an-hour of mucking around, I called it a night--the water level had gone down below the pump's ability to take it and whoosh it out. This of course still left a very shallow sheen of water across the floor immediately in front of the doors, plus a little in the laundry room. I'm now relying on a fan and time to dry the remains. At least it's not very cold.

As far as I can tell, the only victim of the deluge was an eight-pack of papertowels I'd casually heaved to the bottom of the basement steps, awaiting redeployment for a future time that--sadly--will not come now. Everything else of value or non-washability sits on palettes or up on shelves.

I'm feeling very righteous-babe right now, having handled the crisis on my own. I mean, even Noah had pack animals, right?