Sunday, April 16, 2006

Not Just Rain But "Ahhh! RAIN!"

Jesus gave me water in my basement for Easter. (Sorry, religious holidays always make me a little giddy w/r/t Jesus.) I've now been a homeowner for two years, and this was my first major basement water experience. In the past we've had a little seepage, but THIS storm scared the bejeezus out of the cats (Orange Cat ran to cower in the basement; Grey Cat darted upstairs and FRANTICALLY spent 15 minutes trying to open the door to the master bedroom while we shouted, "Get in the basement, you moron!"), turned the street into a river, made a pond in our front yard, rained DOWN THE CHIMNEY, and exploded through my basement wall. The force of the rain was such that the little seepage crack in the foundation, which prior to today was just a nuisance, was SPURTING water out through the holes of the tool-holding-holey-board that hangs in front of it. (I know there a name for it, but you know what a tool-holding-holey-board is, right?)

As basement water goes, we were lucky. It was in the unfinished part of the basement and while we had to unplug a couple things and evacuate some tools, there's nothing there that really gets HURT by the water. Still, it brought in just oodles of mud and required me to - for literally the first time in my entire life - to MOP! Once the sump pump and drains had cleared out most of the water, I mopped up the muddiest parts because it was a slippery dance with death in there (also, I was afraid the cats might shun the litterboxes if they had to go through mud to get to them!). Usually Mr. McGee does the mopping because I don't know how. Now that I've done it once, I have no excuse left, drat it all.

Other than the 15-minute Armageddon-like storm with thunder that rattled the windows, it was a beautiful Easter, and we spent most of the day in the garden preparing the raised beds for our vegetables. There's such a lot of "hurry up and wait" involved in gardening, and patience is not one of my salient characteristics. But so far, most of what I planted - even the lilies of the valley, my favorite plant, that I thought were killed by the scorching sun and drought of last summer - is coming back up, including a delphinium I thought the bunnies had killed and an purple coneflower I thought I planted too late. It makes me ridiculously pleased every time something pokes up out of the earth, like I've achieved something remarkable, instead of like the universe is merely continuing in its daily business of bringing forth life.

1 comment:

smiley said...

lilies of the valley, my favorite plant

You remind me of my grandmother. After I graduated from college, several of my friends and I rented the former house of a rather prominent local family. It wasn't a "mansion" per se but a really nice, big old house on 80 acres, about 5 miles outside the town where we went to college. It had a dammed-stream swimming pool, a grass tennis court, and the larger tributary of the dammed stream was also dammed and provided great ice skating for the whole area. It was a great time and place. And it had lilies of the valley.

My grandmother came to visit, for reasons I don't remember now (I had already graduated and she wasn't one to travel much). She left with a shoe box full of lilies of the valley -- because they were her favorite plant. They did very well under her care. I hope the new residents of her house appreciate them. I will never forget them.