We just received 4.5 inches of rain over Mother's Day weekend, on top of 3.5 inches last Thursday and Friday. Somehow, the $6,000 we spend on "french drains" (oo-la-la) and a sump pump in the basement sounds like a better investment. I looked at the output yesterday afternoon, and saw the pump shoot out a gallon of water every 40 seconds. That works out to 2,160 gallons over 24 hours. That's far better than listening to Hubby run the shop-vac for hours on end, and dumping the results in the sink.
(You DO remember the storm last year when he took off from work, ran the vacuum for 12 hours straight, and emptied it in the sink, rather than the floor drain on the other side of the basement? That was a classic.)
In any event during the height of this storm, I noticed that one of the gutters was overflowing, and (stupid me) told Hubby. He was out there in his foul weather gear -- still has it from the CT hurricanes -- and dragged the 12-foot step ladder out to the front. This involves unlocking the gate to the back yard (to stop criminals), and then unlocking the shed (to stop criminals from getting the tools and ladders to break into our house), getting the step ladder out from behind the garden tools, dragging it around to the front yard, and setting it up under the power lines to the house (in the rain, on a metal ladder). "I've done it hundreds of times! Quit telling me what to do!". He gets up the ladder, missed the lines by inches, cleans out the gutters.
Ah, idiot-saved by God, once again. Daughter is going nuts -- "Mom, stop him!" All I can say is, "Just don't watch. He doesn't want our input, and he won't listen anyway". I mean, I love him and all, but we HAVE been married 28 years, If he wants to be the latest entry into the Darwin Awards, I can't deny him that joy. I just don't want my daughter's last image of her father to be:
She's my hero! We get to meet up with her (and hubby, thankfully) this weekend at Lovely Daughter's graduation. Can't wait!
* Don't despair. I'll be sure to post something lame tomorrow while I'm waiting at the hospital for Mr. B's procedure to be over.