The Flood of 2011

I haven't posted in a while because it feels like I've been too busy to string two sentences together - let alone write a whole few paragraphs of my usual awesome cleverness (right?? ha!)

Lately we've been dealing with the joy of home ownership. Namely, we've been trying to keep our house 1) standing and 2) livable. First, the window wells started filling up with water, which then leaked into our basement. The floor was wet (and gross) but the water made its way to the floor drain and out of the house while we waited for a crew to come install some drains in the wells for us. Until, that is, the floor drain got clogged (probably by cat toys since we learned that for some reason it had no grate on it... oops.)

I came home from work to find my poor cats stranded on "high ground" (the Skittles table and workbench) unable to reach the stairs to escape or their litter boxes (which were floating... eww doesn't even begin to cover it.) There was about 3 or 4 inches of standing water in the basement, which to a cat constitutes a flood of epic, build-an-ark proportions. I of course had to wade in to rescue them. This is why even a fashionable woman (which I'm not) should own a pair of Crocs - they do have their uses. I wear mine in public too, but let's not get into that. Anyway. My cats reminded me of Hurricane Katrina survivors, waiting on their roofs for the rescue helicopter. Which made ME said rescue helicopter. Which meant that as soon as I was within leaping distance (pretty far for a thoroughly freaked out, wet, smelly cat) I was tackled. Little furry, wet and smelly spider monkeys with sharp claws clinging to me for dear life - it wasn't pretty. Especially when you figure in my literal "high waters", unshaved legs and the aforementioned (hot pink) Crocs.

After the cats were carried to safety and peeled from my flesh, I called a plumber to come out and snake the drain. The first one I called left me with a headache to rival my stinging cat scratches. Stupidity has a way of bringing on a throbbing behind my eyes that tempts me to gauge them out with dull pencils. But I digress.Our conversation went as follows:

Perky Lady Who Answered the Phone: How can I make you smile today?
Me: Well, since you asked, it would make me smile if the floor drain in my basement were unclogged ASAP so the water standing in my basement can drain.
Ms. Perky Pants: Okie dokie. But is there standing water in your basement?
Me: Yes...(thinking, didn't I just say that?) About 3 inches.
Not So Perky Anymore: Ohhhh... Well, the water will have to be drained before we can unclog the drain.
Me: Um. Okay. But the DRAIN is CLOGGED. Which is why the water is there. So... How do I drain the water when the drain is clogged? (At this point, I thought surely we were just having a misunderstanding. Alas, we were not.)
Ms. I Know This Sounds Stupid, But They Pay Me to Say It: Yeah, uh, well, you can suck it out with a shop-vac. (uncomfortable pause)
Me: A shop-vac? Do you know how many shop-vacs full fit in a basement? What about the whole water and electricity thing? Are you serious???
Ms. Apologetic/Sheepish/Wishing She Didn't Get My Call Now: Um, sorry. Our plumbers won't come in if there's standing water. Policy (mumble mumble) Sorry (mumble mumble) Hire someone (mumble mumble)
Me: Thanks anyway. I'm going to go find a dull pencil now. Goodbye.

So, I called Roto-Rooter. They sent someone out in under an hour, who sloshed right through my standing water and unclogged my drain. I wanted to hug him, but I'm pretty sure that would have been weird. I probably will hug the people I hire to clean the basement though. They'll need the reminder of their humanity after cleaning the dark, smelly, cat litter-y hell my basement has become. Did I mention litter boxes float (and unfortunately, not being designed to be seaworthy, capsize)? Eww.

On an up note though, the drains are now installed in the window wells, for $400 less than expected, and once the basement is cleaned it will actually be usable again. Maybe someday we can redo it as a playroom for the Bean.

I can't do a whole blog entry without mentioning the Bean, of course. She learned a new word the other day. Grass. Which unfortunately comes out, "ass". And she gets really, really excited about it because the kid LOVES being outside, in the "ass", er, grass. So she yells it, over and over and over. Yeah. Even on the worst days, I always have a reason to smile.