In this case, the word “love” is open to creative interpretation. Like “takes pleasure in my pain” or “hates my guts.”
You know that for the last week my life has been almost singularly focused on getting ready for the donkeys (which are coming home today, by the way) and when I’m singularly focused on something outside of the house, it’s possible I don’t pay enough attention to the inside of the house.
And this is how the house shows its displeasure:
Yeah. That happened.
Good news: Three hours with a pump, and the basement is clear of water.
Better news: I called my HVAC/Plumbing guy at 7:30 AM Thursday, and by 4:30 PM I had a new well tank installed and the water working.
Perplexing news: I can’t find the newt. Which is actually probably a salamander, but if he continues to live in my basement I’m going to name him Newt! instead, which is probably what I’ll yell every time I see him. (Alternative name: Holy Shit!)
Just one of the many adventures of living in an old farm house…