As anyone who is familiar with our basement knows, it tends to get a bit damp. By “a bit damp” I mean that any time it rains hard there will be a puddle in our basement. It was not unusual then for Ravennshea to tell me a couple days ago that there was a small amount of water in the back corner of our basement. What WAS unusual about it was that it hasn't rained hard enough for water to collect.
A mystery.
No source of the water could be found.
We went about our lives for a few days after noticing the Mystery Water without really seeing it again, then Ravennshea did a load of laundry. When the washer was done she came up and said “There is more water on the floor, I think the washer has a leak”. We both investigated and, once again, found no source for the Mystery Water but since we just happen to have a spare washing machine in the basement we swapped machines and figured that would take care of the problem. The spare washer hadn't been used in a couple of years and smelled a bit musty so we decided to run it through a cycle with a little bleach in the water before we resumed the laundry. So we did. And after the cycle finished there was a good 3/4 of an inch of mildly bleachy water pooled on the floor near the washer and spreading out a startlingly large distance considering we had the washer set on “mini load”.
oh
shit
Further experimentation revealed that the source of the water was the floor drain in the basement. Any water that we put down any drain in the house would cheerfully back up out of the floor drain in the basement. This is not good. Of course this is all happening on a Sunday and to complicate things, in spite of leaving four rather frantic messages, we were unable to get in touch with our landlord. Clearly the situation needed to be fixed. We couldn't flush toilets, bathe, do dishes or drain water down the kitchen sink without making the problem worse. With this in the forefront of our minds we called Roto-rooter.
This is where things started getting better. Roto-rooter had a mans nearby so he turned up less than an hour after we called. After poking around the drain a little bit and flushing the toilet once he announced that the drain line between the house and the street was plugged, probably with tree roots. He busted out his industrial strength drain auger and after about an hour had the whole thing fixed. And their “come and rescue me after hours on a Sunday” fee was only 35 bucks. The whole bill was slightly over 300, but we get to send the invoice to our landlords along with next month's rent check
reason number (x+1) that I am actually kind of glad we don't own our house.
On a completely different note, apparently there is a small but growing trend of people who are too busy to maintain their personal online presence (facebook, Myspace, etc.) paying other people to do it for them. (BBC article). I found this both amusing and disturbing. I mean it really kind of defeats the purpose doesn't it? If I have a Myspace page and pay someone to keep it up for me, it isn't really MY space is it? Its more like Someguyspace.
Also just wanted to take a moment to sing the praises of what I'm sure will become one of our new favorite local businesses, the coffee shop that just opened on the block just off Market Street on 8th Avenue. Can't think of the name right now, but its the only one on the block so there shouldn't be too much confusion. Anyway, they just opened yesterday, the owner seems like a decent guy and makes a mean latte. Add to that the fact that its three blocks from our house and you have a recipe for a perpetual caffeine buzz. The only complaint I have is that they don't open until 6 am. The world would have been perfect if they opened at 4 so I could get coffee there on my way to work.
One of my latest musical addictions is Ed Solo a sort of reggae/dub influenced drum&bass artist. I picked up the “When I Was a Yout” single off iTunes and have been listening to it compulsively.
and finally –
When you see this post, quote from Doctor Who on your LJ.
One must always accept the unexpected.
The Doctor, in “The Leisure Hive”