Egg cups for Friday. The angry looking chick on the left was a gift from my mom. Two beautiful transferware egg cups on the left and right. The egg cup with the feet is Walking Ware from England. A beautiful blue ironstone egg cup in the middle – old and very heavy. An egg cup from Prague – a gift from my husband, along with the handprinted egg (also from Prague.) The bear egg cup was a recent gift from my dear friend Lynne and Sean. And the wood and porcelain egg cup was a gift from my Mom. The painting is by my friend Christie Repasy.

Yesterday’s “adventure” – We had torrential rains yesterday, as did a lot of the country. Endless, most of the day, and at times, accompanied by thunder and lightning. Late in the afternoon, while listening to something on the radio, I realized I was hearing something loud. It was the sump pump, which wasn’t stopping after pumping water out of our 1891 basement (entered from the outside, and sort of spooky).

So, I grabbed my rain slicker, put on my muck boots and braved the outside. I moved the stones that hold the tarp down (which covers the old wooden door) and I carefully went down the stairs and sure enough, it was the sump pump. I got it to stop. Then I stayed down there for quite a while to see if it would reengage and stop on its own. It did. There was a lot of water in the basement.

Back up the steps. Closed the door. Put the tarp back over the door. Went inside. Took off boots. Happened to look through the kitchen window and realized that water was flooding the street from the section of culvert that is just to the left of our driveway. Amazingly, a big sofa cushion that I had seen way down the street (apparently fell off someone’s car) earlier in the day, was now being sucked into the culvert drain and the water had nowhere to go but the street. It was way too big to actually move through that pipe, so it just stayed there, blocking the path of the water.

Back into my slicker and boots. I walked down the driveway, figured out where I needed to stand to reach the cushion, and, in the midst of rush hour traffic, grabbed the cushion. The suction was so strong that I could hardly move it, but after several tugs, I managed to pull it away from the culvert. It was so heavy and so wet that I had to drag it to the side of the mailbox, where it still is. (Not only is it big and awkward, it’s ugly.)

Back inside. It wasn’t long before the damn sump pump got stuck once again. This happened at least four more times. I don’t know whether it’s starting to fail or if something was in the way that kept the float from dropping. I even walked around to the side of the house to see if the pipe was clogged. No. I unplugged it, but then thought the better of it as the rain had stopped and the amount of water headed toward the sump pump had greatly decreased.

I’ll have our oil guy, who is also a plumber, look at it.

Oy. What a day.

Don, this is why I need you here.

Happy Friday.