Somebody send the ark…
…Chicagoland is drowning. Days of heavy rain after months of heavy snows, and all the rivers are overflowing.
I knew it was serious when our house started making a funny noise. I thought it was the neighbors; the Big Guy thought it was our teen sneaking out through the garage in the middle of the night. But then I happened to be standing right over the spot when the noise started again.
Our sump pump was turning on.
I’ve owned this house for six years and never saw the sump pump or heard it running. In fact, once the home inspector checked the crawl space, I’ve never seen the need to go down there again. Until now.
This was major, folks. To get to the trap door for the crawl space, I’d have to clear the hall closet of six years of debris, musical instruments, snow boots, old picture frames, and holiday decorations. Then my gift of imagining the Worst Case Scenario kicked in.
What if I got the trap door open and then I accidentally fell in? And got hurt? Like, broke an arm so I couldn’t pull myself out again? What if I broke my neck and lay there paralyzed in the water? And maybe rats crawled all over me. Or a snake. And then Jenn would get home from school with her iPod blasting through her earbuds, dash upstairs to put on her work uniform, and then run off to work without noticing I’m lying under the house with vermin crawling on me. After that, I’d have to wait hours until my husband got home.
I wisely waited for my husband and when we looked in, we saw there was an inch of water in one part of our very clean, gravelly crawl space. No rats, no snakes. And the sump pump was doing it’s job.
So we volunteered at one of the grade schools to help fill sandbags and stack them near the river. The town’s been nervously watching the river rise; the grade school is most likely to flood. As I signed in on the volunteer sheet, a man stepped forward and started snapping photos. I tried to write as fast as I could, thinking that tomorrow morning there would be a picture of my un-showered self, wearing an old baggy jacket of my husband’s and big ol’ snow boots, hair slicked back with ear warmers, and probably having my mouth open and my eyes half-closed, which is what always happens when someone takes my picture. The caption will read, “Local Yokel Volunteers at Flood”.
At least it’s better than a headline that reads, “Woman Drowns in Own Crawlspace”.
Published by angelawd on April 2nd, 2008 tagged Just Act Normal
April 2nd, 2008 at 9:05 pm
Thanks for the good laugh, Angela, and good luck with the weather and water.
April 2nd, 2008 at 10:29 pm
Or…
“Teen’s iPod Responsible for Parental Death”
Chicago (AP)–A middle-aged freelance writer and mother of two drowned Wednesday in her suburban Chicago crawlspace while her teenage daughter danced through the house to Rhianna’s “Don’t Stop the Music.”
The girl, who has shown promise as a writer in her own right, says she’ll never listen to that song again. “If I’d stopped the music, and taken my iPod earphones out, I would have heard my mother screaming that the rats were eating her alive. I might have saved her. Or at least called my older sister and let her do it.”
The teen broke into sobs as she continued, “It’s a blessing she drowned before the snakes reached her. Mother had an obsessive fear of snakes writhing through storm run-off.”
The victim’s husband was unable to comment, muttering incoherently about leg of lamb.
A virtual memorial is being held in the Blogosphere on Friday. Comments are requested in lieu of flowers.
April 2nd, 2008 at 11:45 pm
Thanks, Lillie!
Kalynne, I totally thought that was a real article! I was wondering how I missed that in the newspaper. ANd I can’t stop laughing!
Only in Jenn’s case, it would probably be Panic at the Disco that was blasting her eardrums.
April 3rd, 2008 at 2:53 am
Kalynne is a nut.
April 3rd, 2008 at 3:02 am
tee hee
But Angela - I’m a bit worried for you. Hope you stay high and dry.
Um… Don’t go a whole bunch of days between posts. You’ll make us nervous.
April 3rd, 2008 at 2:21 pm
I’m still alive, Sue! But if I go too long without posting, will someone contact my husband and tell him to look in the crawl space?
April 3rd, 2008 at 3:52 pm
I hope that the rain stops soon..
April 3rd, 2008 at 5:32 pm
Thanks, Michelle. The rain did stop and the water is going down, thankfully!
April 3rd, 2008 at 6:00 pm
That’s great news, Angela! Although I did enjoy your friend’s reporting abilities, no doubt about it! I cannot wait for you to share with all of us (you will share, right?) your photo. I think women filling sandbags in cold rainy weather are a hot commodity. You could sell it! xo
April 3rd, 2008 at 6:53 pm
Luckily, they did not run my photo in the newspaper, but someone else’s. Whew! I’m sure I looked like a hot commodity the other day.
April 4th, 2008 at 1:25 am
Praying that you all dry out soon!!
April 4th, 2008 at 6:08 pm
Thanks, Christi, it’s a lot drier now.
April 8th, 2008 at 1:19 am
Crackin’ up over here. Angela, you and Kalynne need to team up and do a comedy tour as the Philosobloggers. LOL!!
Seriuosly, though - I do hope your still high and dry.
April 8th, 2008 at 2:13 pm
Yep, high and dry, and enjoying some sunshine for a change. Thanks, Damama!
June 3rd, 2008 at 8:40 pm
[…] My dear husband enjoys my imagination, especially when it results in a blockbuster novel (OK, it will someday) or an amusing story. But my tendency to imagine the Worst Case Scenario for every situation tries the patience of even St. Joe. Remember the crawl space incident? […]