Thursday, June 29, 2017

Sump Pump, part deux

Nothing like shared misery. 

Any of you who have had to deal with a failed sump pump just did a groan over that title. 

Most of you know that I was signed up to do Bike to the Bay last weekend. I don't need to rehash that as you can scroll further down and read about it yourself. Here's part of the story you don't know, because it hadn't happened yet.

Last Friday night I drove my car, full of camping gear (to be explained in another post) to the end of the bike event and we drove Dada's car back, backtracking the route we would be biking Saturday. Midway through the fifty mile route he receives a phone call from our renter.

All of you have figured out where this is going.

Our renter was heading out of town for two weeks on Saturday. Friday night, while we were en route on our next day's bike route, he discovered the sump pump had died and there were two inches of water all across the basement floor. Seeping into the drywall. Soaking baseboards. Generally up to no good.

So we scrap the last fifth-ish of the bike route to check it out. Then followed a trip to Lowe's for a new sump pump and other assorted supplies. Calls to neighbors to see who has a squeegee since we didn't think about that while in Lowe's. Old towels? Company, since misery loves it?

Out with the old sump pump, in with the new. Water draining, situation assessed, keys exchanged, condolences shared. We drive home. We kiss the sleeping kids and discuss tomorrow morning drop off plans. 

We stumble into bed just before midnight on a day before we need to be up at about 5:30 so we can finish prepping for and traveling to the start of a fifty mile bike ride. 

"I only laugh when I think of my life." -Joe Grippo

Since then, Dada has been to the rental house at least six times and I've been there at least three times to empty dehumidifiers, reposition fans, rip out the wet drywall, beg neighbors to let us finish filling their trash cans with bags of drywall and insulation and drywall screws and nails and mess, spray the studs and baseboards with bleach water, shop vac sweeping, etc. Some of you know exactly what all that looks like because you've lived it. Thankfully there was no carpet to deal with or drowned sofas, electrical outlets were all high above the water and the seepage, and the renters are out long enough to get a very good start on the tear out-clean up-fix-redo.

Life is messy.

Anyone know a guy whose life passion is to cut/install/mud/sand/paint drywall? Send 'em thisaway. 

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