Cursed

Remember this - a year and three days ago? Or the later floods that required fans? (briefly touched upon here), just a couple of weeks later?

We're cursed. They're baaaacccck!

I came home yesterday in a flurry - having only minutes to change clothes before heading up to a cabin retreat with some neighborhood women.

I couldn't find my socks. I don't wear socks in the summer, so naturally they wouldn't be among the first (or second) things I unpacked.

As I got closer to the outside wall in our bedroom, looking for my socks, I heard a gurgling noise.

In fact ... the wall was gurgling. I called to himself. He said I was imagining things. There are two rooms in the new house that should never, ever have water sounds in them - one of them is our bedroom.

I moved over to the wall to get a better idea of what the gurgling noise was and ... SQUISH! Water pooled up around my toes.

Something tells me that a room that has no plumbing behind the walls should not EVER have water pooling around ones toes on top of gurgling walls.

"HIMSELF!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. He said "it can't be that bad."

But it was. And 30 seconds later, when I opened the blinds, it got MUCH WORSE than "that bad" because there I was, staring into no less than a foot of water in the window well.

The good news is, the windows apparently don't leak. The window and the sill were dry.

The bad news is, the wall DOES leak - the water from the window well was seaping into the wall and running down the INSIDE of the wall (gurgling) and under the carpet (squishing).

At this point I drug Himself in to see the fact that our bedroom was now, in fact, some sort of macabre excuse for an aquarium - with floating spiders instead of fish.

It was the spiders, in fact, that made Himself declare "no way am I bailing the water out!" I had to remind him that the only place for the water to go was INSIDE. Then, finally finding my socks (after moving the remaining unpacked boxes out of our room), I grabbed a bucket, ran outside and began bailing out the mucky, spider-filled water in the now appropriately named "well" outside our window.

It turns out there is a suspected leak in the 33-year-old sprinkler line. Now we have a wet wall, a wet floor (with the carpet half removed) and ... you guessed it ...

A horrible, industrial-sized fan. In a room with no screen and half a dozen nasty looking spiders just outside, which means no fresh air through the window.

I give up.