Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Sump Pumps, Wet Vacs and a 4.4 Quake

Bummer. Pots of gold? Luck of the Irish? Hardly. More like pots and pots and pots of ground water seeping from every crevice and crack in my 160 year old cellar. Five more inches of rain soaked the already saturated earth. Sump pumps humming. Wet vac working overtime. I really didn't need this. Not now.

Arrived home to a starry mild dark blue night. The gorgeous off the chart week of sunshine, my darling sister's celebration week brilliant in my mind's eye. Perfectly orchestrated. Paradise. All of it. Sister time. Niece and nephew time. Extended family and childhood friends. Picture perfect in and out. Through and through. Newport Beach cloudless azure skies. Snow-capped San Gabriel mountains In the distance. Rocky Catalina Island just a waitin' for me!

Wouldn't you know it? Just as the calm spread like silk through my being, fury was erupting on the other coast. A heads up that anyone can be thrown out of paradise. Doesn't take much. A bite from an apple. A rejection from the big apple. The apple of my eye.

A spring Nor'easter churned the clouds again. Poured rain by the foot. The weather gods and Mother Nature angry. Very. Flexing their muscles. Conspiring and cajoling. The Los Angeles ground shimmied at 4:30 yesterday morning. The harbinger. The alarm to get out of bed, get dressed and move, girl. Don't miss the flight. Not the BIG one, mind you. But most assuredly a wake up call to get my ass in gear. A creaking realignment by the psychic omniscient chiropractor. The atmosphere fraught with subliminal messages. My inner peace at risk. Shaken. Not stirred. Olives banging me on the head. Zapping me to reality.

LLBean duck shoes. My nightgown wrapped around my waist. Middle of the night treks to the damp, now mildewing basement to suck the water oozing through the cracks. Tears mixed with streams of water lapping at my feet. Need to dry it up. Bring on the vermouth.

Forecast for tomorrow? Drier with less puddling. Cheers to the lemony crocus peering out of the soggy earth!


  1. Bit damp then? Much like here. Spring has disappeared behind a big wodge of wet.

  2. Ooooh. I love the word "wodge". And alliteration to boot.