Cats and Dogs and Pine Cones
After supper, Wed., Sept 10:
The rain came down in buckets and it wasn't long before I noticed - right outside my workshop door - that Lake Keepa-Hoppin was growing to a troublesome size.
"I'd better get a move on," I say.
Did I build a raft out of scrap lumber? Swim for shore? Hoist a red S.O.S. flag from the clothesline?
["The sump has good suction. Cats and dogs and pine cones, stay clear"]
["The only water in the shop was from my soaked shoes"]
No. I got to work and prevented disaster. I grabbed my sump pump, 100 feet of electric cord, garbage can lid, a few hefty rocks and my yellow rain coat from Canadian Tire. I adjusted my dusty cap and dove into the rising waters.
First, I set up my sump in the deepest section of the lake, over by The Annex. Why, my old shed was close to floating away, never mind the tonne of lumber and tonne-and-a-half of the flotsam and jetsam of modern life inside it (e.g., two bikes, a lawn mower, seven stacking chairs, my new shop heater, a raft of picks and shovels, one rare CNR lantern).
Second, I went up and down my sturdy aluminum ladder and cleared three clogged down spouts attached to the house. Oh, boy. The water poured down my neck and the spouts at the same time in torrents. By the time I got back to dry land inside my workshop I had 50 pounds of water in each of my coat pockets. I musta looked like a duck struggling with two backpacks.
Some would say a deluge, a deepening lake and a 100-ft. electrical cord are a dangerous combination. I say, just another day in the life of the workshop's daring emergency crew.
[I say, "That's one clean thumb"]
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