The rain makes me achey, and it's a holiday for a lot of folks (President's Day), which automatically makes me ask myself for the umpteenth time why I didn't take the day off so I could be home with L? Actually, we need the rain (California being a desert and all), but last night as we were eating dinner, I looked up at a corner of the kitchen ceiling, and noticed a leak. Now, you have to understand that our house has withstood more water damage than is right and fair. I don't know what happened before we lived there, but in the last 16 years the house has been soaked numerous times. We lived through the great flood of 1993 (when the pipes under the master bathroom cabinetry magically undid themselves, and water poured forth ALL DAY. ) I came home to policemen and firemen and all sorts of mayhem as water gushed through the ceiling, light sockets, and down stairs, making it's crazy escape. That was bad enough, but in following years there were other roof leaks, making it necessary to get a new roof.
The old roof was torn off on Christmas Eve about 6 years ago, when the worst rainstorm I can remember hit. The rain came down in buckets, and the wind blew so hard I was afraid that trees were going to blow over. Of course the tarps all blew off and down the street, leaving our house open to the elements...on Christmas Eve... The first hint that all was not well came when the chandelier over the dining table suddenly leaked a torrent of water on my mother's head. When we went into the living room, water was rushing out onto our hardwood floor from behind the baseboards, and through the ceiling at various points. Water was pouring from door jambs upstairs. My parents got outta there as fast as they could. We frantically tried to reach the contractor, all to no avail. He never even returned our calls until AFTER Christmas. Doorways and floors were warped, ceilings ruined. In my memory, I just remember my daughter running from neighbor to neighbor trying to borrow buckets, coolers, ANYTHING that would catch water.
But that wasn't the end. One day we noticed water standing in the pantry. When we called a plumber, he found that a pipe in the wall had been punctured by a nail, and that it had been slowly leaking for some time before getting bad enough to actually come under the walls. That got fixed and patched up, and life resumed.
About a month ago, we noticed water leaking from the attic into the upstairs hallway. Drip...drip...drip... When L climbed up on the roof, it seemed to be coming from a vent during a rainstorm. But we were leaving on vacation soon, and so we just covered the spot, and decided to call a roofer when we got back. Well, we're back, and last night I noticed the spot in the kitchen. It appeared to be dry, and so L thinks its from the most recent roof leak. I'm not so sure. I think the house has something more sinister in mind, like a leaky bathtub or shower. I guess we'll figure it out in due time, but I'm concerned about this attraction to water that the house seems to have. When I was thinking about all of this on my soggy drive to work this morning, I cleverly dubbed our house the Price(y) Waterhouse. That made me laugh a little bit... (I love it when I make myself laugh.) I haven't heard of any water calamities in the vicinity of home today, so I remain hopeful, with one eye on the sky, and one eye constantly on the lookout for suspicious dampness, dripping, or outright puddles.
On a lighter note, L sent me this picture of a global warming protest. I laughed outright, and I think I have a couple of friends who will think this is funny, too. (Right, Natalie?) Anyway, cheer up *speaking to myself, of course* and ENJOY!