I went to Zack's Book Fair on Monday and had a thoroughly good time. I mean, it's books. What's not to love?
Rick's oldest and oldest's girlfriend and spent the weekend with us, so when I got home, I was surprised to see that they hadn't already left. I was also surprised to see the furniture all moved around. "Oh, they're vacuuming really well for me!" I thought.
Then something about the stricken look in Jessica's eyes told me, "Wait. Somethin' ain't right."
"Is something wrong?" I asked?
"Um, yeah," Ryan said, and pointed up.
Not just drops. Or drips. But water POURING out of the ceiling. And not just in one place. Several. Many. As in more than one.
This is a good time to remind you that my husband works an hour away. And that our contractors are in Alabama this week. And that the plumber couldn't get there until 10 minutes after Rick got home. And that we couldn't get to the water shut-off valve because it's literally all the way under the house, or up to the elbow in the ground down the street.
It's also a good time to say we have excellent neighbors, and our friend George rescued us by turning off the water pipe with a wrench, keeping us all calm, and waiting with us until Rick arrived. Ryan, Jessica, and I just sat and watched the ceiling and poked holes as necessary so the ceiling wouldn't kerchunk down on our heads and I kept going for buckets and bowls as a new leak would spring.
So what caused it?
The world's worst contractor. The. Worst. He reverse threaded a pipe, never strapped it, and the pipe fell off. So while someone was in the shower, all the water went through the floor.
And it all started over my bead table.
Now this is what I see when I look up while making pretty things.
Not quite sure how that will inspire me.