Faith’s Blog: Faith’s Flood
#writerslife
After the well was fixed, we had about two days of bliss: long hot showers; loads of laundry washed and dried; dishwasher run with a sani-rinse, to make sure everything was truly clean. So much lovely water.
The second night, I couldn’t sleep, and was up at 4:22. I seldom have insomnia, but when I do, there’s no point in fighting it. Without bothering to hunt for my hearing aids (somewhere near me on the bedside table) I got up and went downstairs to my office, and, as I went down the stairs, I heard drumming rain. I peeked out the front windows, to see that everything was wet. So I went on to the kitchen where I made tea and listened to the rain. It was soothing. I started working on the new shiny, and the world fell away. (I love this book!)
At 8:35 the Hubs came down the stairs to the main level, suddenly made loud, “Arrrrrgh,” sound and I looked up. Rose from my chair. He dashed past my desk. Hubs opened the basement door. At which point he screamed again. And he flew—flew I tell you—down the basement stairs. I followed a bit more slowly. To hear the sound of … my drumming rain.
A pipe had busted. In the basement. At some point prior to 4:22.
There was a massive spray like a firehose across basement, hitting the wall that separates it from the garage. Drumming. Vibrating. A second, smaller spray was shooting into the air like a fountain. Hubs hit the main “off” lever on the pump. We stood there. Staring.
There was water. Water everywhere. Things made of paper in direct line of the spray had disintegrated. Plastic zipped cases of linens stored on shelves had not stood up to the spray. Everything was soaked. The carpet squelched and puddled. A pile of work rags were so wet, when he picked up one, it still ran. Cases and cases of books were ruined. Packing supplies. Water had hit so hard for so long, it had gone through into the garage.
Hubs: “Did you not hear that?”
Me: “I left my hearing aides upstairs. I heard it raining and glanced outside to see it was all wet.”
Hubs: “What time was that?”
Me: “Four, twenty-two. We have to clean out the basement, don’t we?”
Hubs: “And probably take down some walls. Replace the insulation. Call your brother. Ask if he can come and help with the plumbing. We’ll need pipes and copper joints replaced.”
Me: Calls the “Fix everything” brother. Explains our problem.
Bro: (sighs very, very heavily) “I’m at a job.” (in another county)
Me: “Take your time. We still have emergency water from the days of the dying well pump.”
Hubs: “Tell him I just sent pics of the pipes that are bad.”
Bro: “I heard that. Lemme look. Okay, good. What size?”
Hubs: “Three quarter inch.”
Bro: “I have those in my truck. I’ll be there in an hour. Maybe an hour and a half.”
Me: “We’re good. Take your time.”
Hubs: (Opens the garage door. Opens the basement door. Starts work, moving things outside. Gets out the shop vac. Gets out the industrial-sized fan.)
Me: “What do you want me to do?”
Hubs: (Laughs)(Laughs some more)(Looks at me.) “We are really truly blessed. Go back upstairs. Write. If I need help moving things I’ll call you.”
Me: “I’ll make coffee and a really good lunch.” (Feeling totally inadequate.)
By that evening, everything had been replaced. The in-line water heater had been adjusted (all the well woes and the flood had messed up the settings). Water was again restored.
We lost a lot. Twelve cases of books is a big hit. But our pipes are fixed. Hubs is still working on the garage. That will take a good two weeks, working hours every day. This falls under the, “Perils of Home Ownership.”
Moral of the story. Learn how to turn off your house-hold water supply. I am now supposed to check the ceilings and the floors as I leave the bedroom each morning, looking for water. I have to open the door at the stop of the basement stairs and listen for water running, and watch for water on the basement floor. Every morning. We’ll turn off the water if we are going to be gone all day.
But like Hubs said: “We are really truly blessed.” It’s annoying. But we still have a house, a roof over our heads, running water (not drumming water). We have heat and AC and food to eat. The basics. And we are happy together. Here to the Hubs.
Faith’s Flood is (hopefully) over. I am very thankful it hasn’t been worse. I am thankful Hubs knew how to turn off the water. I am thankful my Bro was able to come. I am also aware that all our copper joints in this 30+ year old house are old. Faith’s Flood may not quite be over. But I have faith (koffkoff) that it can be handled.
Feeling grateful,
Faith