Grateful

Some years ago, a sump pump was installed in my basement.  Before that pump went in, basement water was a semi-regular feature of Spring life around here.  Since the pump, basement water is pumped on out to the street, thus saving me from a whole lot of anxiety.

The fool in the White House doesn’t see it, but climate change has brought greater extremes to New Jersey.  One of those extremes has been more precipitation.  My corner of New Jersey has had nearly ten inches of rain in November.  Four inches fell in six hours on Saturday; another inch fell yesterday afternoon.  The basement pump is getting after it and every 30 minutes or so I hear it come on and do its job.  When I hear the sound a chorus of gratitude echos in my mind.

Thank you little sump pump.  Thank you.

Adult Nirvana

Longtime readers will recall that this blog regularly features postings about my flooded basement.  There was this time.  And this.  And let's not forget this time.  Or perhaps you prefer to read about when it all started?

You get the picture.

After the floods of Hurricane Irene and the follow-up fill of the basement courtesy of Tropical Storm Lee, I began to fantasize about a permanent solution.  The amazing JP, plumber extraordinaire, got to work and now I have a sump pump.  It's quite impressive looking. 

And it spells the end of my illustrious career in basement water removal.

On Sassafras Pond

The good news is that the birds were chirping when we woke up this morning.  There was some cloudy sunlight to be seen and the rain seems to have stopped.  The bad news is that we came downstairs to see that the backyard now has a pond.  We've never had this much of a pond before.

And there's water in the basement.  Well more than one would like.  JT and I will fire up the water pump shortly.  We are well experienced in the task at hand; and I have to say that having JT's help makes the whole chore a little easier to bear.  Rivers around here will crest in the late afternoon and then we will will slowly return to normal (which is flood-prone anyway).  I grew up in drought-prone central California.  That had its own problems, of course.  But surely there is some sort of happy medium between the two conditions?  I'd like to find that zone for the next few weeks.

My Personal Seasonal Disorder

It's no secret that I was happy to put away my snow shovel for the season.  However, in the brief celebration that followed, I had not anticipated how quickly I would be plugging in my shop vac. 

That's right, the basement monsoon season is upon us.  In all fairness, the basement was dry through 10 pm on Sunday night.  But the rains were remarkably heavy and steady; everywhere I looked outdoors there was standing water; the rain gauge was at 3 inches.  I knew the dry basement couldn't last.  And, true to form, there was water in the basement on Monday morning.  Happily, there was sun outside.  The sun continued today and more is forecast for tomorrow.  I took advantage of the lull to fire up the wet/dry vac and suck up the water in the basement.  Things are well on their way to dry.

But I see that the forecast is for floods and rain all day on Thursday.  The Weather Service website dryly warns:

IF YOU EXPERIENCED
FLOODING WITH THE LAST EVENT THE COURSE OF LEAST REGRET WOULD BE
TO PREPARE FOR IT AGAIN.

I shall take the course of least regret, and keep the water pump at the ready. 

Super.

Life List #23 : Basement Clean Up

Last summer, I put some basement work on my life list.  My basement is large ---- two rooms with nearly 700 square feet of space.  And it was a mess; the depository of all sorts of junk, much of it unneeded and most of it in cardboard boxes.

The fact that my basement takes on water when there is a heavy rain meant that on occasion those boxes would become my private disaster zone.  In the aftermath of the first flood in 2007, some things got tossed out.  The rest got stacked up to await an eventual clean-up.

Clean-up arrived in the form of basement flood number two earlier this month. As the stink of wet cardboard filled my home, I was inspired for a massive clean-out.  And that's exactly what happened last weekend.  JT was a tremendous help, helping to haul things out for the garbage men to come and carry it all away.  When the final mountain of trash was collected in the driveway he took a critical look at it and announced. "that's just shameful."

I must agree.  But in the aftermath I have an organized basement. The remaining boxes, filled with things I want, are placed on shelves, carefully ordered so that I can find the things I'll use ---- Christmas decorations, winter scarves and mittens, and some of JT's childhood treasures ----- while the junk has been excised from our lives.

Every once in a while, I just walk downstairs to admire the glorious order of it all.   And, of course, I checked number 23 off the list!