The house is old.
“Hey, I hate to say this,’ she says, “but there’s a bit
of water in the basement.” The tenants upstairs
are leaving as I am coming home.
There had been an absolute deluge the night before, and there’s
nothing like a 124-year-old house for water in the basement after a storm, so I
take the information with a grain of salt. I pull out one of my earbuds. “No worries,” I say. “I’ll take a look.’
“Well,” Susie worries, “I’ll be back in a couple hours if
you need any help.”
Help? I
think. Have they seen me? Do I not give off an air of self-sufficiency?
Nay, of common sensical ability?
I jam my earbud back in, go directly to the basement.
It is a reasonable basement, if not a bit dank at the
moment; and last year’s cobwebs, having been swept from the exposed ceiling,
have been replaced by new ones.
Two hours later, still in the clothes I wore to work, the
cement floor, while damp, is cleaner than it’s been since, oh, the last big
rain. And yet – why is there still
water? I have been listening to a podcast
about crime in Merry Old England, and I’m just coming to the realization that there
seems to be water leaking from under the washer when –
“PEARL!”
And though in hindsight what I heard was most certainly “PEARL!”,
what I understand it to be at the moment is “I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!”
I leap into the air.
Kurt has come down the stairs. “Don’t you hear that?”
I pull both earbuds out. “I don’t hear anything,” I said. “I’m busy wet-vac-ing all this water…”
I pull both earbuds out. “I don’t hear anything,” I said. “I’m busy wet-vac-ing all this water…”
He makes a face. “But
don’t you hear the water?”
And then I do – the spray of water that has burst from a
hose behind the washing machine.
“Well,” I laugh, “that explains why I can’t quite finish up!” I follow the pipes to the shut-off valves, and the spray falls to a steady drip that no amount of tightening will help.
“Well,” I laugh, “that explains why I can’t quite finish up!” I follow the pipes to the shut-off valves, and the spray falls to a steady drip that no amount of tightening will help.
The plumbers have been called. And I am still alive.
9 comments:
I am very glad that the plumbers have been called. And more glad that you are alive.
Indoor plumbing of any sort is contrary to the laws of nature. Other than the flowing downhill part.
Ugh! I hate that happened, but at least the plumber has been called and that you are alive.
Oh my how awful cleanning up water sucks
Water is trouble. A few days ago I woke up with the bathroom floor full of water; an internal pipe (the supply pipe in the wall) has exploded. I tried to do something about it, replace the part, but there was a piece of broken pipe which I couldn't take out. So, in the end I had to call a plumber.
Dear Pearl, You can read all about my "Plumbers" experience last year at: https://trainrideoftheenigmas.blogspot.com/2018/04/plumbers.html#comment-form
After 3 or 4 days of having plumbers under the house, the solution came to me in one of those rare 2-o'clock-in-the-morning experiences that one usually relates to religious hierophany. I sat bolt upright in bed and went out a got a shovel --found the worst and last leak under the foundation footing, capped it and was back in bed by 3 a.m. You just have to have faith!
But, that floor is sooooooooooo clean.
A Sisyphus situation for sure - but with a better ending :)
never ending source of water. Thinkof how long you could have wet vacced if Kurt hadn't shouted at you.
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