Anabelle and Daddy Ad-veeeeen-tures! Yeah! *Jazz Hands* Day 12 -July 30

A River Runs Through Us

Before I mention this day had another failed attempt at viewing Evil Dead 2 with my daughter I need to point out that I am not an abusive parent trying to force my tastes on my child.  We watched multiple scenes of Army of Darkness on YouTube together and she liked them all. This was also the summer her true Horror Genre Fan genes developed.

Thanks to exhaustion from the previous day, we started this one with a late Darth Vader waffle brunch together while watching another sadly Deadite free morning of television.

I got some more laundry going while she cranked out a few summer homework assignments, and used an owl painting for Mami as a combination creative outlet, and welcome back gift. 

She also sent out the invitations to my family to come over and sample her special mushroom and crabmeat pasta the following weekend.

All those hours watching Chopped was paying off after all.

We had originally planned to take the train into Times Square and wander around this day.  Yes, she made a grid…that’s my girl.

However, after walking eight thousand art filled New York miles on the previous day’s Ad-veeeeen-ture *Jazz Hands* she was done with the city.

This turned out to be an exceptionally good thing.

We were getting a roof shaking rainstorm that started a bit before I went down to do laundry.

While down there, I was annoyed at one of the smoke alarms pealing for no reason.  My original though that it was due for a battery replacement was rapidly replaced when I realized the noise was coming from the water sensor we left near the back door based on some past basement Ad-veeeeen-tures of the non jazz hands variety.

Much like a scene from The Blob water was flowing under the door at a terrifying rate.  Anabelle couldn’t hear me over the air conditioner, leaving me to run upstairs to grab shoes before opening the door to see what was happening.

Side note:  Pretty much the only time we open that door is to check a source of water or some other issue.  I’m wondering if sealing it up would remove the need to open it along with the ability.

Following a bit of sogginess and swearing, I somehow simultaneously got the wet vac going inside while finding the giant wad of oak tassels that washed through a downspout and blocked a drain pipe outside.

We had a pump to use if the defunct coal bin filled up, but I couldn’t find it in the workshop. Between the other tasks I kept looking for it and finally got it hooked up.

The combination of opening the drain and getting the pump going lowered the water level outside.  I used the vacuum to try to clean out the drain pipe some more.  This is something I normally did once in a while, but weird weather spaced out the whiles a bit too far.

Anabelle was a great help ferrying supplies up and down the stairs and manning the phones.  I was talking to my brother-in-law, Dave, and telling him it seemed to be in control when three things happened.

1) The rain picked up to biblical deluge levels again.

2) The levels of dirt down in the drain area clogged my pump.

3) In trying to vacuum the drain pipe I was blocking it.

Water immediately filled up to the door level again, and I changed my “in control” statement to a yell for help.

Dave came over with the snake he had already, and then went back out to buy the longer one he’d been meaning to anyway…since he’s a guy.

Anabelle got some well needed stress relief by watching my four year old nephew and her zoo buddy Morgan for a while.

She provided me some well needed stress relief by leaving me a paper towel with:

an enouraging "I love you" note written on it where I would see it when I came in.

Parenthood is its own reward many days.

The snakes found no impedance in the line, proving pretty clearly that the only thing blocking the drain for the second rise was me.  We poured some water in as a test, and it shot down the tube, no problem.

Dave also helped me clean out the pump. (Thanx Dave!) 

I think my Sister and Mom passed through at some point as well, but the afternoon is a little blurry.

I used the wet vac to clean eight hundred yards around the drain and put the pump back in place.  After spending an inordinate amount of time cleaning out the vacuum, I cleaned my equally filthy self.

Massive destressing was needed, which is why Anabelle and I shared both Mel Brooks’ High Anxiety and a return to making tacos together.

She enjoyed the film without having any knowledge of Hitchcock, meaning she’ll join me in being someone who laughs at the master of suspense when the originals are viewed.

She also knows why I hand her a newspaper in such a strange fashion, 

and the origin of, “I got it, I got it…I ain’t got it.”

We snuggled a while during the rainy night…not counting the myriad trips I took downstairs to peek out the offending door with a flashlight.

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