I know "chronicles" implies an order of events, however this blog will bounce around from past to present and back again. I will try to date the post for when it occured. I wrote the following on 09/09/09 but it occurred in 2007--I just don't remember when exactly.
I wake up one
morning to get ready for work, like usual. I blindly search for my phone to
shut off the alarm. In the process, I knock it off the nightstand into the
abyss under my bed where it disappears. I stretch my arm out and sweep under
the bed to feel for it, and all I feel is fuzziness that I quickly interpret
for spider webs. Forget it! I don’t need a phone. I am not crawling under there
to get it.
I stumble down the
stairs, tripping over shoes and animals. Somewhere along the way, I step on the
cat’s tail who expresses her displeasure of this assault with a swift open
clawed smack to my foot. That cleared
the cobwebs from my head…sort of. I manage my way down the next set of stairs, steering
clear of anything with more legs and hair than I have. Finally, I make it to
the bathroom to start the shower. As I am adjusting the water, I feel a drop of
something wet on my foot, followed by another on my head. I look up toward the
ceiling and a drop of water hits me square in the eye. I am certainly awake
now.
I take a step back
to examine the ceiling and I see that it has grown a hump. The hump is large;
about the size of a basketball. I sprint up the stairs to wake my husband. I tell
him there is something growing on the ceiling in the basement bathroom and he
needs to come see it right away. Now, it is his turn to lumber down the stairs,
clumsy over shoes and cats. However, the cats have learned from the first encounter
with awkward ogres and summarily vacate the area. He eventually makes it to the
bathroom, where I am pointing up to the ceiling. My husband examines the protuberance
in all directions. Then he pokes it. First rule when dealing with a ballooned
ceiling…never poke it.
Immediately, the
bulge transforms into a waterfall that my husband is holding at bay with his
finger. He starts yelling for something to catch the water. I run off to get a
pot, bowl, bucket, anything I could find to catch the cascade. Once I have the
bucket in place, he removes his finger, and the ceiling follows suit with all
the water in its cache. There is water
everywhere by now, and I’m not sure what the purpose of the bucket is at this
point since hardly any water made it in there. This is the second waterfall
produced by this house but by far the biggest. The other waterfall happened
right outside the basement bathroom in front of the office door about 6 months
earlier. That ceiling fell down too.
I look around at the destruction and realize
that all the plumbing will need to be replaced immediately. I know I will look
up at beams, wiring, spiders, birds, and the occasional cat for quite some time
before the ceilings are repaired. I dare not ask, “What’s next?” This house
seems to take such musings as a challenge and is all too eager to show you
“what’s next”.
UPDATE: It has been FOUR years since the waterfall and I still look up at beams, wiring, venting, insulation, and the occasional cat.
