It started out as a wonderful Saturday – I went and walked with some pooches, came home fixed Angela and the boys some breakfast and then, by 8am, prepped myself for a good old fashioned one to two hour nap. Glorious, I say! Little did I know that my house had different plans.

I was having grand dreams during my nap. Dreams of being in World War II as well as dreams of racing speed boats. Suddenly, something mysterious happened: The phone rang. Not our cell phone but our landline. The same landline that was on the fritz and that I was told wouldn’t be fixed until July 11th. With the ringing came the answering machine kicking on. This was getting freaky. Angela woke up and that stirred me awake. We wound up saying we were hungry for lunch and made our way downstairs.

We should have stayed in bed.

When we got downstairs Angela noticed that there was an odd smell. Along with the odd smell was a puddle starting to spread from beneath the fridge.  At first we didn’t think too much of it because a) we were sleepy and b) our fridge had a habbit of spewing frozen water from the ice maker. Upon closer inspection we saw that the puddle wasn’t actually a puddle but more like a river. We suddenly became acutely aware of the sound of water spraying.

I would like to take the opportunity in the middle of this little story to remind people of the mighty onion. The onion is a plant that has a papery outer skin over a fleshy, layered inner core. If you start to peel an onion you’ll find that you’ll end up going through layers and layers skin. Keep this in mind as you continue through this story.

As we scampered about the kitchen trying to stem the flood emanating from our fridge I yelled to Angela to turn off the water that led to the ice maker. It was at this point that she went downstairs and found the shut off. When she returned upstairs she found me throwing towels on the floor and wrestling with the back of the fridge, an angry water hose and a bucket. The look on her face was one of disbelief.

“There’s water in the basement”
“Really? How bad is it?”
“I don’t know. It looks pretty bad.”

The water managed to seep down through the kitchen floor and onto the ceiling of our basement. The floor had been soaked, the walls had streaks of water coming down, there were parts of the ceiling where seams were outlined with water damage and the wash area was flooded. After even more scurrying about to clean Angela got to her cell phone and called our insurance agency. They dispatched repair people within a few hours.

That is where we are now. The repair people are downstairs – a pair of nice Eastern Bloc fellows.  The current assesment?

1. Remove and replace the entire carpet in the basement.
2. Remove the wall to the staircase.
3. Remove and repair the ceiling in the basement.
4. Remove and replace all of the flooring in our kitchen.

At this moment I can’t tell if my house is telling me not to move or if it is trying to get us to leave as quickly as possible.