Here We Go Again

It's spring in Iowa. And that has come to mean monsoon season. And...flooding. And this spring, unfortunately, is no exception. While my personal little battle against rising water pales in comparison to the devastating flooding and possible impending flooding on the western borders of our state due to the Missouri river leaving its banks, nevertheless, this past week I've felt like I've been on the front lines of flood defense.

First, a little backstory. As you may recall, I recently put my home up for sale in order to relocate closer to my job. As you might also recall, I have had severe basement flooding the past several years due to 'five hundred year' floods we seem to get every spring and sometimes even in the fall. So, I invested thousands of dollars in 'fixes' to stop the water from finding its way into my basement. Two check valves and a gargantuan exterior sump pump pit and sump--along with considerable green later--we thought we could finally thumb our noses at Mother Nature the next time she decided to throw another water event at us.

You SO don't want to screw with Mother Nature.

Thursday night our town received 5.56 inches of rain. It started around midnight and rained so hard I couldn't see the street out front. But I figured, hey, I'm good. I'm protected this time around. Still, I couldn't shake that feeling of dread that usually came over me as I stood at the top of the basement stairs and switched on the light.

No water lapped at the bottom of the stairs. This was surely a good sign. Right? I decide to check just to make sure everything is high and dry and descend the stairs. At the bottom step I hear this ominous gurgling sound. So. Not. Good.

You're protected, I tell myself. Two check valves. A monster of a sump pump. What could co wrong?

As it turns out, everything.

No sooner had I heaved a sigh of relief when I checked out one of the floor drains. You know. The drain that the check valve was supposed to prevent water from coming back through. And as I looked on, water began to pour out of the drain and into the basement laundry room. Yep. Somehow that damned water had found its way in.

At 2:30 in the morning, my son and I are back in our flood fighting mode, pulling out the portable sump pumps, hooking the hoses back up and sticking them out the basement windows once again. In between I was on the phone to the city and the contractor who installed the 'fixes'. Yes. At two-thirty in the A.M. That's how ticked off I was.

But it gets better. In three out of four nights we ended up getting more heavy rain and from Thursday night through Tuesday night our rain totals came to over twelve inches. And the storms hit each night right about bedtime and lasted most of the night. My son and I were up all night three out of four nights. By yesterday morning, I could've gotten a part as a zombie on The Walking Dead without the need for any makeup. And my mood? Well, let's just say if a scene if the aforementioned zombie flick required ripping someone's head off or going for the jugular, I'm your zombie.

It, instead of a badly needed vacation this summer, it looks like I'll get to invest in a second sump pump pit and sump pump this summer to keep the water from the city storm sewers from entering my basement. I'm a lucky, lucky woman.

What makes this all the more frustrating is that I had intended to use this past week in order to get my Harlequin Intrigue submission sent out before the editor is inundated with post RWA National Conference submissions.

So, I'm watching the weather and praying that it dries up long enough for me to get my proposal sent out and the second pump installed.

Until then, nobody better look at me cross-eyed. Just sayin'.

And how was your week?

~Bullet Hole~