Sometimes a Great Notion

    I could have named today's blog entry "Good-Night Irene" but so many people have used that... I couldn't bear to, despite the fact that it fits perfectly and that I am a fan of Leadbelly's (Huddie Ledbetter's) music. Check out the original by clicking this link: Goodnight Irene.  It's been covered by lots of great people included that great Beach Man himself, Mr. Brian Wilson... but I digress.

  

   So, after all the preparation, how did our little house in suburbia handle the first hurricane since Pretty Boy Floyd came to town in 1999?  Well, for one thing, we did not live in this house back in 1999, but apparently the house didn't do so well back then.  We were very lucky this time around.  The lake overflowed but did not flow into the pool. 

We did get a bit of water into the basement, mostly seeping in from the garage, but thanks to the hard work of putting everything in plastic and up off the floor, nothing was ruined.  We did not lose electricity, clean drinking water, or, God forbid, the Internet.

While I was standing on my front steps, I did see a tree fall right before my eyes.  Its roots must have been so soaked that they just up and dislodged themselves from the ground and it cracked and fell with a soft thud right in the front yard.  

Now, far be it from me to make any kind of sexist remark, but about 25 seconds after that tree was down, there were at least 4 grown men standing around it salivating and bragging about their chainsaws.  After about three hours of good honest work that had us feeling like a small time, East Coast version of the Stampers, we called it a day... leaving the tree looking more like this...

I say "we" because I did my part, dragging branches to the street, piling wood into nice neat stacks, and of course taking pictures.  By 5:30, muddy, scraped up and hungry, I came in, and besides it was cocktail time. 

After checking in with family and friends...and reading peoples' updates on Facebook and Twitter, I knew we fared well this time around.  

And It Surely Looks Like Rain

It's Saturday afternoon, August 27, 2011.  The Hurricane Irene is on her way.  It's all people are talking, tweeting, facebooking and blogging about.  Even me.


We are all "battening down the hatches" or however you spell that, and preparing for this storm of the half- century.  If it's as big as they predict, there's a good chance that we will probably have a flooded basement and lose power.  I don't live near the ocean, but if you have read my earlier blogs, I do live on a small lake which becomes a mighty, well, lake that overflows when we have these types of weather situations. 


Here's how we've prepared so far: 


1.  Eldest child has escaped to his own apartment in Boston, also in the danger zone, but a rental and not his problem.  He's carefree and probably just making sure his laptop, Droid and flashlights are at the ready.  I hope that I've taught him well and he has a stocked fridge and liquor cabinet.


2.  Middle child has also escaped to visit friend in Ann Arbor... she'll enjoy the hurricane from the comfort of the midwest which is scheduled for no weather at all this weekend.


3.  Youngest son did his obligatory 1/2  hour of helping move stuff around the garage and is hanging with his friends before being stuck in the house with his parents.  I believe he's a little put off by the threat of no electricity and having to play Grateful Dead-opoly with Mom and Dad for two days by candle light.


4.  Garage is cleaned out, garbage cans moved in.  The guy actually did arrive and put in a larger drain and pipes to drain the water out of our driveway so hopefully the flooding we usually get will not be so bad.  We do have a few holes in our roof (see "Phase One") so a leak could be in our future.  We have frozen bags of water and are filling up a few coolers of water, just in  case.  We have a full fridge, and of course, a full liquor cabinet.  Also, the great Mayor Corey Booker (Newark) suggests filling up your cars with gas and getting cash today, so that's done too.


Tom Petty said "The Waiting is the Hardest Part."  I think it's the cleaning.  If I could just sit on the couch with a nice cold drink and wait, I mean really, how hard could that possibly be?  But I need to get back to it and get everything off the basement floor and away from the windows.  


Before I go... I changed the set up of this blog so you can post your comments.  (I think.  Try it and let me know.)

And a prize goes to the person who can name this object I found while cleaning the basement!








Stay safe, and enjoy the ride!

Who'll Stop the Rain

Picture a Nicholas Sparks movie adaptation of one of his novels.  (You can't?  Ask your sister / mother / girlfriend/ gay friend.) 


The four kids (mentioned yesterday) are sitting blithely around the pool.  It's tomorrow, so it's sunny, and someone has cleaned the pool.  They are joking and laughing, and having snack and drinks out there (in plastic cups, of course).  Scene cuts to worried Mom (me) inside on the computer, tracking Hurricane Irene. 

Next scene cuts to very uptight father at work.  He's looking at the bank statement online and wildly clicking things to see if he can make money appear where it needs to be.  Viewers are perplexed.


Cut to May of this summer.  No, make that May of six years ago. Yes, that's how they do it in the movies.


The parents look pretty much the same, but the kids of course are six years younger. We come to take a final look at the house we are about to buy.  After at least 5 years of  taking our tiny house on and off the market, debating whether to stay in our  little town in Northern NJ, comparing the value of a decent sized house with a decent sized yard, we have finally sold our place and settled on what basically amounts to a brick raised ranch.  On what is arguably the nicest piece of property in the entire town.  (Did I use arguably correctly here? Read on and let me know what you think.)  As I have said, the house is really just a shoebox, only one room bigger than the one we've just sold, though each room is a little larger (except the master bathroom, which I may get to in another entry).  But then there's the yard.

And here's the funny thing.  We had pretty much decided we didn't care about the yard, as long as we had enough room in the house for our "stuff."  That lasted right up until we saw the yard.  The first thing you notice is that the front door is facing a huge front yard, but is set up away from the street.  It's hard to describe and also harder to find.  Kids on Halloween have a very tough time (guess you could say it's our trick if they want to get their treat). 

The next thing you see is that there's a beautiful pool, shaped like a chipotle pepper.  Of course, we didn't realize it at first.  I mean, of course we knew there was a pool, and that it had a fun shape, but chipotle peppers didn't come into vogue til recently, and we had really not identified it as any specific type of pepper at the time.




 

Pool with people in it.

Kids canoeing on the lake.



But the piece de resistance is the fact that behind the house and the pool flows a small river, or creek, punctuated by two waterfalls. This little pocket of zen surrenity in the midst of suburbia is what our family has called home for six years.  We love our upper lake, our waterfalls, and lower lake.  We love our barely-used canoe and the fact that there are snapping turtles in the middle lake that sometimes need rescuing.  We love that the upper lake has an abundance of fish in it, and on spring and summer nights you can see them jumping out of the water to catch insects. 

We don't love that this summer, for some reason, this lake has begun to overflow into our pool.  Which brings us to this past May.

Pool with mud in it.

The tranquil lake overflowed into the lovely blue pool TWICE, causing thousands of dollars worth of work, mess, and damage to pool, property and flooding into the house.  The pool had to be drained both times and refilled, leaving it with a stained and cracked bottom.  We had a berm built to staunch the flow of the water, and it has been tested already (and will be tested again with the impending Irene and her winds and water).

And our movie cuts back to today.  And our unknowing, naive but happy young adults are enjoying the pool and hammock... not knowing the worry in their parents' hearts.  Will the berm hold up?  Will the redirected water find a different way into the pool or into the thrice-flooded house?  (Yes, the house.  This could be the sequel, or possibly a prequel to this cinematic thriller.)  And, if you've been playing along, you'll recall that we are still not sure if there is a hole in the roof where the tree fell on the house, as the roofing contractor has failed to show at each of our arranged appointments so far.  And while we are on the subject of the money pit we call our home, we are still waiting for a no-show plumber to dig a new drainage system to allow for the water to flow away from our home and into the lawn and lake.

So, maybe it's really not like a Nicholas Sparks' movie at all.  Perhaps it should be more aptly called "Little House in the Suburbs." 

Stay tuned to find out how we fare during Hurricane Irene...