Come Hell or High Water

I've heard it said before that the definition of insanity is "doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different result".  Well, Joel and I are finally sane.

Mother Nature?  Oh, she's off her rocker.  She dumped way too much water "up in here" in 1993, which flooded eastern Iowa and made Davenport look like a swamp, drenched us again in 2008 and nearly wiped Cedar Rapids off the map, and for the last two weeks has wrung out every drop of moisture in the sky in short bursts that made me finally understand the danger of a flash flood.

Cedar Rapids in 2008

We had company, of course, because when one's home floods for a record 12th time, one wants as many people to be displaced as possible.  As it turns out, however, having Joel's Dad at our house for a visit was a blessing in disguise.

"Psst... sorry to wake you, but what should I do with the foot of water in the basement?"

That made us jump to action.  We followed our original routine; we pulled back the (still not tacked down) carpet in the spare bedroom and closet, set up fans, and planned to regroup in the morning and see if a dehumidifier was in order.

Unfortunately, the rain was as heavy as I've ever seen it, and the storms continued into the following day.  It seemed that each time we checked the dampness of the floor, we found new spots that were wet and had to pull up the flooring in nearly every corner of the room.  By the time the smell hit three days later, it became clear that expecting a different result truly was insane.

And if the smell didn't do it, the fuzzy black mold did.

So here we are, one week post-flood and about three days into a dramatic cleaning venture that has left the entire lower level of our home bare and unused, much like my blog itself, which was abandoned when the computer first came unplugged and I lost my office to a sump pump tsunami.

So much for drying things out.  So much for fans and dehumidifiers.  So much for carpet itself-- we're on a waiting list for stained concrete which will certainly lead to a few more bumps and bruises but hopefully a few less penicillin colonies.  So much for all of the blog posts I had planned.  So much so that instead of back posting, I'll give you a brief run-down.

Bampa visited for two weeks and brought all of the rain from Seattle with him.

For one glorious day (pre-flood), there was backyard baseball, and Graham managed to avoid getting hit in the head.

With the lower level of our house completely inaccessible, we've all become much more creative with sources of entertainment.  A simple game of marbles went from an occasional distraction to a daily battle, a means of settling arguments, and a "Home Alone"-style booby trap at the top of the stairs. 

I played Marv.

Photo credit here.

We all shivered through lackluster fireworks while Joel made drywall arrangements and Adler slept soundly.  He woke up screaming later that night when I sneezed, but the sound of airborne explosives was no big thing.

Adler, who started life at a bit of a disadvantage, has made up for lost time and now tips the scales at around ten pounds.

So despite a very wet start, we're hopeful that July can still turn around, and you can expect more communication from me in the weeks to come.

And if you don't hear from me, we're probably just redefining insanity...