Rising Waters

"Into each life some rain must fall." So goes the old adage. It never said "Into each basement some rain must fall." Probably because not everyone has a basement. But I do. And fall it did. Like a waterfall.

It came up through the floor (at a point I've known needed repair and I just hadn't done it). And, it came in through the windows, dribbling down the wall in some cases. In the worst, it was gushing as loud as a waterfall (not exaggerating -- it woke me up).

After plugging as much as I could with towels to at least slow it, I tried to start cleaning it up. I tried two shop vacs and neither could handle it. Finally the best method was dumping buckets of water into the utility sink until the floor drain could finally handle it and it began to go down. I'll be very good at bailing boats, should the occasion arrive.

And don't ask me how this happened but at one point I saw a small frog or toad, which I captured and released outside.

That was Tuesday. It's still damp in parts and smells grim but at least I can work on the clean up -- and I have been for the past few days. I am far from done -- so far, 15 trash bags are in my bin and the car is packed to the gills with things for charity that aren't damaged or smell. And there is so much more to come.

I look at every weather report with trepidation. In this, our year of rain, there is plenty to worry about but no way any of the repairs can be done right now. There are many (including several of my neighbors) who have it much worse -- they had carpeted, living basements. Mine is just storage. I lose "stuff."  They not only lose stuff but have significant renovation work that must be done.

 So back to the basement I go once I get my morning brain working. As soon as I can get things away from the walls and purged as much as possible, then I can call the de-molding people to come do their thing. It will be a dent in the England 2020 fund, but hey, it could have been so much worse. Lots of things that mattered were in plastic bins and to be honest, it forced a job that has been moved from one to-do list to another for far too long.

There have been a few good things this week, though. Rick got on a bike on the road this week. Well, riding around the neighborhood and then he realized he was doing it earlier than he should be so that might be on hold again, but he felt glad to be back on two wheels, even if the going will be uphill for awhile.

My friend Jane, whom I hadn't seen in several years, came through town with another we'd been longing to meet -- Mike, who was a great support to Rick after the accident, even though they'd never met. We enjoyed some wonderful conversations during their visit and a great lunch, too!

(This is my soup sampler -- nettle soup, seafood chowder, French onion and Peppedew Tomato. All excellent!)

Jane brought a me wonderful vintage cookbook (1941) by Ruth Wakefield, who invented the Toll House cookie. In addition to tons of recipes it has hints on stain removal and first aid!

For those of us who appreciate cookbooks as historical records of food during various periods, it offers a wealth of tidbits about cooking, serving and entertaining in another not too distant time.

I hate to think I'll ever be using the first aid advice from the 1940s, but some stuff is timeless!

Five years ago this week on a day that looked like rain but ended up being gorgeous, these two were married!

In the time since, there have been new jobs, an MBA program and best of all, two Baby Grands we adore to the max! And of course, having Molly in our family is four star! Kevin couldn't have made a better choice!

This weekend we'll head to Detroit area and for a bit of Grandlittle time while they go celebrate and the next day celebrate Father's Day. And on that note, I wish those of you with Dads around, a wonderful holiday. And for those of you like me who have made that final farewell to Dad, sweet memories.

I miss you, Dad. Every day.