Monday, February 28, 2011

dirty basement water legs

I feel like I've written about the flooding that sometimes happens in my basement.  If so I've explained that the pump is in the farthest corner from the door, and I've probably described the crate walk.

Because the pump is in the far corner there are two milk crates in the basement.  When it floods I use the crates to move above the water.  Standing on one crate I move the other ahead of me then step onto it.  I repeat this process until I reach the pump then jiggle the pump until it starts pumping.  Sometimes I have to dig around in the hole to break loose the collected flotsam, and I have a stick that stays in the basement for this very reason.  Once the pump is working I turn and do the crate walk back to the door.

Rain has been falling throughout the day, and I was even lucky enough to get to bike in some light rain this morning.  I arrived at work thoroughly damp, though my butt was nearly soaked from the spray off the back tire.  I won't even attempt a description of my hair, but it needs to be cut and was the combined crazy of rained on and wind blown.

I left work an hour early and met Momma and The Boy near the square.  She needed to be at work earlier than usual, and I was able to leave work in order to take her car and meet Big Brother at his school.  She warned me to avoid our usual driving route due to flooding, and as we travelled I saw plenty of flooding around town.  Our town is a very hilly town, so between the hills and the paved surfaces and the low places we can see lots of rapids down road ways as well as a number of 24 hour ponds.

I knew of course that the chance of my basement being flooded were very good, so upon arriving home my first goal was to check.  I could tell the basement was flooded more than usual, but I couldn't really see how deep it was.  I could see one of my crates, but I needed a long stick to get it close to me.  I try to leave them near enough the door, but sometimes they get pushed out of the way on dry basement trips.

I found a long stick and braced myself against the brick doorway and leaned as far as I could and just could reach the crate.  I wasn't sure how easily it would move, so I wasn't expecting instant cooperation.  I also wasn't expecting for the crate to be floating and to slowly roll over when I did reach it.

But it did.

I ended up changing into shorts and donning my flip flops.  I was dreading my adventure into the cold, brown water, but it exceeded my expectations.  The water is in fact cold and brown and reached just above my knees when I was finally brave enough to step out into it.  It's so cold in fact that it nearly took my breath away, almost like that first jump into the pool.

I'm sure the boys above in the house heard me as I made my way to the pump.  I was singing loudly, "Oh my god it's sooooo COLD!" a little ditty I made up trying to keep the water temperature from driving me over the edge of sanity.  I could only move so quickly as there are plenty of dangerous and invisible things in the brown water ready to trip me or worse.

Thankfully I did finally reach the far corner, and thankfully the pump didn't take too much jiggling to start working.  Now I've got coffee steeping and another trip outside to peek into the basement.  I hope to hear the pump still working, and I hope to see a noticeable drop in the water level.  And I hope to relight the water heater's pilot soon.  The boys already needed baths tonight, and now I'd really like a shower.

1 comment:

Chris said...

I spent many a rainy day doing something similar at the house on Maplehurst. The difference is that I had neither milk crates nor a sump pump. I'd have to wade in to drop a hose in the pit that the water heater sat in and then wade back out to start a siphon to get the water out.

Yeah, the warm/hot shower couldn't arrive quickly enough...