Like a Good Neighbor...

All was quiet in our neighborhood Saturday morning. We live in the middle house at the end of our cul de sac. Chuck and I bring up the average age of our neighbors considerably, but they have included us in their social circle, and we love it. None of us could know what that day held for us. Sometimes it's best not to know.

We had an afternoon family photo shoot in Wisconsin on our Saturday lineup, but our morning was wide open, which was a pretty exciting prospect for a girl who enjoys a loose schedule. I love having a little wiggle room to futz and putter. Maybe we would even all go for a walk! 

As it turned out, the day turned hot early, and our day went from wide open to really packed, really fast. Chuck looked up from his editing program on his computer, and asked if I still wanted to walk the puppies. 

"It's just too hot," I told him, as I rearranged the throw pillows so I could stretch out on the couch. Well, with Bristol, I never get to really stretch out because he is usually tucked behind me or on one end of the couch, but I felt a nap coming on. 

Chuck took that as having the "all clear" for a nap of his own, and left to lie down on his "headache couch" to let his Excedrin migraine start to work.  Yes, my poor husband has headaches so often that his preferred couch for recuperation is lovingly called the headache couch around here. We had about an hour before we had to leave for Wisconsin, and we were choosing to spend the time resting, and then getting ready.

"What is that smell?" I asked myself, looking first at Bristol, and then Sam. Hm. No, the smell was awful, but it wasn't them. Was it the pillow beneath my head? The dogs have been known to take naps on it occasionally; maybe I was smelling a little "eau de canine." Inhaling deeply, I determined that no, the pillow wasn't the source of the foul smell. 

One thing about me is I have a pretty good sense of smell. I may be deaf in one ear, and may have deteriorating vision, but my sniffer knows when the air is sweet or foul. I wasn't going to be able to sleep with that fragrance wafting through the house, so as much as I hated to disturb my great grey puppy, I got up in search of the smell.

The odor seemed stronger by the window, and I knelt down near the air vent. Ugh. The smell was coming through the vent with the cooled air. Uh-oh. I headed off to the basement. Halfway down the stairs, I saw water covering half of the floor in the main room, and I immediately knew from where the smell was coming. 

"CHUCK! The basement is flooded!" Dang. There would be no naps for us, and no headache relief for my sweet Chuck.

Chuck and I spent the next hour routing out the drainage pipe. No Roto-Rooter for us; my handyman husband had his own equipment to get the job done. I was so nervous we were going to be late for the photo shoot, but as it turned out, the water started draining, and Chuck even had time for a quick shower before we left for Wisconsin. 

It wouldn't be until later that I realized I wasn't slogging through water downstairs. The house smelled awful because our sewer pipe had  spewed sewage over most of our basement floor. Oh, My-lan-ta. Talk about gross.

In checking with our neighbors, we realized that the sewer had backed up into five of our homes. Nothing brings neighbors together like a shared calamity. Through our private Facebook page, we updated each other on information from the city, cleaning tips, and some good-natured joking and teasing. 

We received an invitation to a bon fire with our neighbors next weekend. I laughed when I saw the Facebook post: "Poo Flood Relief, event for Tha Hood." 

You know you have good neighbors when you can laugh about cleaning sewage out of the basement, and you know you have the best neighbors when you not only laugh, but you celebrate it!

Our neighbors are here for us, and we hope they know we are here for them. State Farm's got nothing on these guys.