One day late last week, I noticed that our neighbor Diane's patio was covered in water. It was a sunny day and the temps were above freezing, so I figured the icicles on her house were melting.
And then, on Saturday morning, we noticed that our side yard and backyard were filling up with water, which led us to believe that the source of the forming glacier was something more substantial than a few icicles.
Since the temperature was about, oh, FIVE DEGREES, we assumed that Diane had a frozen pipe that burst. When she got home, Matt knocked on her door to alert her to the flood, but she didn't answer. So, we went on with our lives like newbie homeowners without an insurance-related care in the world and woke up on Sunday to a pond in our backyard.
And our side yard.
And a damp crawlspace.
So, we did what any responsible homeowners would do and called the police department for the second time in as many months.
It's only a matter of time until the put us on a do not call list.
When the officer arrived and surveyed the damage, he said, "Whoa. I've never seen anything like this."
Our neighbor still wasn't home, so the officer and Matt looked around next door, and after searching for the source of a few puddles the officer discovered that the water was actually coming from the next house up.
Specifically, their garden hose.
Which they'd left on, running at a moderate to full blast.
I peeked out the kitchen window while the officer woke up the homeowner and she came outside in her pajamas to learn that her garden hose had been running for days and flooding the yards of the next five houses and probably racking up quite the water bill.
Ironically, while there were six inches of water in our backyard, the inside of our house was hovering around 12% relative humidity. By comparison, the annual average humidity in the Sahara desert is 25%. We'd purchased a humidifier the week before, but it broke and flooded and ruined our bureau and I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT.
But, it was AWFUL. Every time we touched a light switch, sparks flew. Our voices were hoarse. And both Matt and I woke up in the middle of the night Sunday because of dry air.
HOW HIGH MAINTENANCE IS THAT?
Finally, at 2 am, as I leaned over the glass of water on my nightstand and took deep, dramatic breaths, Matt said, "Do you want me to go to WalMart and buy a humidifier?"
Forget the Valentine's Day chocolates and flowers. True love is a man who is willing to go to WalMart in sub zero temperatures at 2 am to buy you a humidifier.
In the end, we decided to tough it out. We'd ordered a new humidifier online and it arrived Tuesday, around the same time that our backyard started to dry out.
And Matt did get me beautiful flowers for Valentine's Day.
I've done some research on orchids, and they can last forever, as long as the humidity is right.
One way or another, I think we can make that happen.