Sunday, August 26, 2012

back to Boston!

from the rain-soaked backwaters of the Mississippi River (the highway is 494 between 35E and highway 5)

to the drumlins of Boston Harbor.


And in 24 hours, I have dealt with a flood, my first midnight resident angrily pounding at my door, a deee-lightful parent encounter, water damage up in the Penthouse...I am ready to go back to the cabin. 

Thank goodness for the loon CD my mom bought at a garage sale just before I left, it is doing a great job of chilling me out. 

The best of these was probably the flood, I arrived back at the dorm around 9:30, took a quick shower, and decided it was time for dinner.  I opened my door to grab some pasta from my pantry closet and heard the sound of water. 

"Huh.  Someone must be taking a bath with the bathroom door open.."

I round the corner, and there is an inch of water on the carpet, slowly leaking into rooms, coming towards me. 

This was no bath. 

I started wading into three-inch-deep puddle in the kitchen in my flip-flops, trying not to fall into the rush of water coming from the cabinet under the sink.  I opened the door, and more water came rushing out.  A pipe had burst.  I got back to my room as quickly as possible, called the emergency Fixit hotline, and finally, four hours and 21 emails later, I declared a tentative victory and went to bed. 

I should have taken a picture, but I was freaking out too much about the newly-renovated kitchens, the new girls who had just moved in, and, you know, I just didn't think about it. 

What a way to start the semester.

2 comments:

Mary Kay Bosshart said...

Welcome home! What is it that causes pipes to burst when one is away?! We had a similar situation when we returned to Paris after a trip to Geneva. Like you, I didn't have the presence of mind to snap any photos. For some reason, I was slightly distracted by doing less important things like mopping up the kitchen floor as rapidly as possible.

At least now the rest of the semester should feel relatively calm. Good luck!

PS. My mom loved the sound of loons.

bridgetwhoplaysfrenchhorn said...

You know, I have no idea. Gnomes, perhaps? Tricky, tricky, gnomes.