Water is a good thing. I mean, life as we know it wouldn’t exist without water.
Still, there are limits. I really don’t think there should be water on my basement floor. That just seems to be stretching it a little.
We got a fairly torrential bout of rain around 5:00 am. It’s only an hour later, and roads are closing already, if that gives you any idea. Jennie called me from the road to say there were four cars that were not only stranded, but actually floating, in the middle of L street. Police were turning people back and everything. You read it here first.
Anyway. So when Jennie came downstairs to go to work, she noticed that water was blowing in around the bottom of the outside door. (Which is in sad shape and needs replacing anyway, but now the need — whether for a new door, or just new weather stripping or something — is a bit more pressing.) And then, a few minutes later, she noticed water dripping from a pipe in the basement which, I’m guessing, is the chimney. A few minutes after that, I found that not only had water been blowing in under the door, it was also dripping from the ceiling just inside the door.
It’s stopped blowing in, at least. And both pools of water were in relatively non-carpeted parts of the basement. There’s concrete just inside the door, and vinyl flooring back by the furnace and water heater. But both were within a couple feet of carpet. I dried off the bits of carpet that did get wet, and am now running the washing machine (with no soap — we ran out last night, and we have more but it’s at the apartment) so I can re-use those towels should the need arise. And we’re very lucky to have several buckets handy to catch the drips.
I wonder if we’ll have any mystery water in the garage. Probably not; we only seem to get that when it isn’t raining.