Moist Sunday Slack

With two days of riding, it was time to utilize my spare time for something else on Sunday. That something else started with me sitting on the front porch drinking coffee while watching in piss down rain sideways. It was just the calm and relaxing mental enema I needed. Had I known what was happening simultaneously, I may have forgone that blissful mind-enema and just started shoving beer and/or legalized in the state of Michigan herbal supplements down my throat.

After too much coffee, breakfast, and some footy on TV, the rains moved out, and things started to dry out. Now it was time for more something else—mowing the grass of the vast (not really) grounds of the Cul-De-Sac-Shack.

Just as I finished cleaning up the 35+ piles of dog shit in the yard, I turned around in the garage and was startled to see Wifey standing behind me in a frantic state. It turns out that unbeknownst to us, the heavy early morning rain proved to be too much for the drain in one of our basement egress window wells and forced water through the window and into one of the basement rooms. FUCK! FUCK! FUCKITY-FUCK-FUCK-FUCK!

There was lots of cussing, bitching, and moaning as I fruitlessly tried to clean up the mess. After about 15 minutes, it was clear that we needed a professional.

I called a cleanup service; Wifey called the insurance agent, and we go the ball rolling on getting everything cleaned up and fixed. 

After the shock and anger of the situation lifted, I started to feel more at ease and eventually went back to my lawn mowing. There was a time in our lives that this would have gone quite differently. Despite having insurance, we would have had to clean it up ourselves because we wouldn’t have had the cash to pay the service or the insurance deductible. I am by no means happy to be 49 years old, but I am happy that we’re at a point in our lives that issues like this can be taken care of. 

Of course, all those years of living paycheck to paycheck means we are fully prepared for our inevitable return via the tiny hands of the insane, orange fuck face in the White House.

So what does all this mean to you? Nothing. What does this have to do with cycling? Nothing at all, other than Wifey has a packed day of work, so I’m in charge of adulting and getting the cleanup rolling, so no ride. I guess I can forgo a ride or a hike to make sure our basement remains a moldless and dry Not So Stankment. 

Who knows, maybe I’ll even have time to grab some crap macro shots to salvage Macro Monday! Or not, it’ll have to be some random shit from around the house and dog pics.

I’m in the shop for some hours on Tuesday.


Photo Comments.
  1. The remains of the roses I bought Wifey for our 23rd anniversary. Also, the only Macro shot on this week’s Macro Monday. And now they are in the trash.
  2. Jake The Dog loves his airconditioned sunshine.
  3. Lola finds room in the afternoon sun.
  4. The Lack of Fitness Room is a shit show of blowers and suckers right now. And not the good kind.
  5. Lola, looking angelic and out of focus, wants to help. I do not want her help.

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