So we have this house that we're staying in, for free, until we're able to buy a house here. It's smaller than our old house, so we planned to leave approximately 1/2 of our belongings in boxes, which we unloaded directly into the basement.
When the movers left at about 6:30 Friday night we were whipped, and went out to eat. When we returned home my husband went down to the basement to discover water. Everywhere. Several inches deep in some places. You know, those places where our boxes were.
We've been on damage control for the last 24 hours. Every box has been examined, and any box that was wet has been unpacked, with the contents spread out to dry. Miraculously enough, we managed to save just about everything, except a few magazines (which, truth be told, we didn't try to save). The sump pump has been replaced, the basement floor mopped and bleached, and all of our belongings now sit on pallets, raising them several inches off of the floor, in case that new pump doesn't do the trick.
I still have no idea where my pots and pans are. It took me until about an hour ago to get the smoke detectors to stop beeping (the batteries were dying, and then the replacement batteries were apparently also too weak).
And as if all of this weren't enough... while we were out to eat on Friday that storm that soaked our basement knocked out the power in the restaurant where we were eating, and at my in-laws. They aren't due to have power again until late Sunday night. So my MIL, FIL, and SIL (plus her two dogs) are also staying here, because my FIL can't sleep without his breathing machine.
I'm trying to keep positive, but I have to admit, this song keeps coming to mind: