Yesterday, as expected, was not exactly par for the course, starting with the minor flood in the kitchen. It continued to be interesting, if nothing else.
Turns out, the deluge of water came from the upstairs neighbors. Their washer hose had been faulty and finally burst, sending the water down the electrical conduit in the wall into the Hobbit Hole.
A disaster clean-up crew (kind of a drastic name for such an innocuous proposed solution) paid a visit. They used their magic wands, determined how wet the walls were in the Hobbit Hole, and determined that fans were needed to dry the place out.
Those fans arrived this morning, just as I stepped out of the shower. Frantically, I dressed and answered the door - sans make-up, with my hair in a towel, looking rather disheveled. I had been warned of the fans' arrival. What I had failed to realize is the sheer size of said fans. They are enormous. No exaggeration. 4'x3' at least. Which wouldn't be so bad if the Hobbit Hole didn't have 7' ceilings and was built pre-ADA era when hallways and bathrooms were required to be a certain width. And, if I wasn't 36 weeks pregnant.
What it means is that I have to suck my breath in and move sideways between the largest fan and the refrigerator, to enter the kitchen. Minor inconvenience, really. Then there is another fan in the bathroom. This one occupies the small space between the tub and the toilet. Essentially, to sit on the toilet one now has to hug the fan between one's knees. This should provide three days' of amusing fodder, since Baby Girl is now sitting on my bladder. The third fan sits on the bathroom counter, which is just wider than the sink. In fact, the fan hangs over into the sink a bit. At this point, I should probably remind you that the Hobbit Hole has just one bathroom.
You can just picture the circus o' fun occurring this morning as I stood at the bathroom mirror (the only one in the house), trying to apply my make-up and do my hair, as the disaster clean-up crew tried desperately to work around my growing bulk, the teeny Hobbit-sized bathroom and the fact there is one outlet in there. For a minute it was a matter of who would win the race to the outlet - my hairdryer or their fan. The fan won. I went to work with wet hair. In the end, the outlet position in the bathroom didn't work out, so the fan is now run via extension cord to the living room, adding yet another layer of comedy.
Oh yes, and the fans, being industrial-sized, disaster recovery fans, are LOUD. As in loud enough to drown out any sort of conversation occuring in the half of the house that contains the kitchen, living room, den and bathroom. Loud enough to make one go slowly insane as she is trapped with only her own thoughts for company for three days.
Next time, I'd prefer the flooding to occur on a Monday so that the drying out could occur while we were at work, instead of facing the prospect of being home for two of the three drying days.
It's going to be a wonderful weekend. I can already tell.
2 comments:
We need pictures of this!
Be glad that the "Frontier" is a desert. Think of the amount of equipment they would have had to use if it had happened in Virgina. Where is it currently 92 degrees F and 45% humidity. (It was much worse earlier in the week.) Fans and an open window works there.
Very true. Except I am in a basement, which automatically ups the humidity.
But still, it was 92 here yesterday with about 10% humidity. It was lovely. :)
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