Everything was going fine until we hit Memphis for the second time. We were woken on Saturday morning with texts from one of our neighbors. The home town had two inches of rain in less than an hour. Water surrounded our house and filled the street.
DH checked the security system, and sure enough, there was water in the basement. He called one of his sisters and she went over to check our place. By then, the yard and street were clear. She guessitmated about a foot to eight inches of water. It was lapping the second step, but she could hear the sump pump chugging away. However, she was smart enough to NOT walk through water that's obviously at the level of electric outlets. But she couldn't see into the rest of the basement.
We debated for a few minutes before we threw everything in bags and headed home. I called our friends in St. Louis and apologized for blowing them off, but they totally understood. DH and I thought we'd spend the day scrubbing everything with bleach. Besides, we didn't have much down there besides the lovely turquoise area rug for the family room. We had unrolled it downstairs and set boxes on the corners so it would lay flat.
We arrived home shortly before midnight on Saturday night. Alarms were ringing in the basement, but the standing water was gone. We crept downstairs.
I wanted to cry. The water line was over my head. The water heater and furnace had been underwater. In addition to losing the beautiful brand new rug, I lost the two brand new Halloween yard inflatables. Stuff I never got to use.
And in the middle of dealing with insurance, restoration firms, and contractors, I need to finish A Hand of Father.
Somehow.
Wish me luck.
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