By now, You The Reader must be nearly as tired of my unending whining as I have become -- it makes me want to puke -- yet here I are again.
As you may have noticed, it's been raining a lot in the Midwest. And you may remember that the basement here at Roseholme Cottage has proven itself to be less than perfectly water-tight. We'd had a little water ingress of late; not as much as we've had in previous years, which had led to my feeling a bit self-congratulatory about the work I've done with installing gutters and cleaning the older ones, adding nifty extensions to the downspouts and so on and so forth. Pride, 'tis written, goeth before a fall. Or a damp Spring and damper Summer.
I try to be mindful of the odds of water on the basement floor; the shocking shortage of closet space means a lot of my clothes are down there in baskets and on clothes racks, and of course the ham shack, radio workbench and gunsmithing benches are all in the basement, along with a lot of parts and projects storage.
With all the tree problems, I haven't been paying as much attention as I should. There's a lot of "at risk" stuff down there and I've already lost the bet on some of it. How much, I'm still finding out. And mopping up. (Took a break to eat dinner -- I had a long day of hard work, nearly all of it out in the heat and the rest of it, well, this was "all personal stuff out of the North Campus" day and that used to be where my office was: lotta stuff, too many memories).
See, there was more water on the floor down there this morning than last night. Today when I got home there was...a lot. Sixty to seventy percent of the floor is wet. Oh, not very deep water, a sixteenth or in some spots an eighth of an inch, but as much as I mop, there's more. The dehumidifier is running flat-out. And I was fresh out of mops; came home, unloaded useless personal junk from car (Hewlett/Packard AC voltmeter, audio-though-low RF test osicllator, Hallicrafters SX-28 communications receiver: "junk") and walked downstaris to A Problem.
Even some of my woodworking projects were in the basement, like the big "window seat" I keep trying to finish for the library/dining room. I had the base assembled -- a six-foot by two-foot rectangle of 2x8 left over from a flooring project and it was tucked into the hamshack corner, standing on edge. Thought I had it propped up on something waterproof. I did not. It's been soaking up water all day; it's a goner. The other pieces I had cut but not assembled and they're on a 4x8x16 raw concrete block -- tick, tick, tick, unless I get real clever real fast.
My toolbox stand also soaked up water. I made a run to the building-supply store and it's up off the floor on waterproof feet now, for whatever good it will do. I can knock together another one easily enough...in my copious free time....
Don't know what else is shot yet. The shipping box for a touchscreen (CRT) all-in-one Windows computer, for sure (but the computer was and is safe upstairs. Not a powerful machine but kewl as all get-out, want it? First hundred and a quarter plus shipping owns it). Tam has some books at risk that I'll have to move. A few other boxes.
Heap big fun, no? --More rain in the forecast, last I knew. Tellya what, much as I loathe the idea, I am ready to get into some middle-sized debt to have my basement actually waterproofed...or at least drained well enough to prevent this sort of problem.
And I was looking forward to a nice, quiet evening, sorting out radio junk and salvage, listening to the ham bands. Fat chance!
One Evening On Kansas II
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