Our house sits in a quiet neighborhood. There’s the low hum of the highway, happy shouts of children, and the low ruffing of our friendly neighborhood Doberman. Step inside, and all of that disappears. This tiny house is, I think, a peaceful place and perfectly quiet, except for one thing.
There appears to be a fresh bubbling brook in our basement floor.
The water bubbles up through a little hole, forms a nicely sized reservoir, and then flows gently along the lowest wall of the basement into a drain, where it gurgles on its merry way. It’s really a nice little stream, except that it’s flowing into my house.
Plugging it with an old toilet plunger scavenged from the heaps of basement trash did not work, so we are out to formulate a better solution.
An ex-marketing major friend informed me that a basic principle of marketing might help us here: if the negative feature cannot be fixed, you turn it into a positive.
Relax in the ambiance of a naturally occurring stream and spring-fed koi pond.
Enjoy a natural swimming pool in the comfort of your own home.
Never pay a water bill.
Survive the apocalypse, naturally.
Alas. It seems the only safe, mold-free way to go is abolition. RIP, buddy.
This solution requires us to smash up parts of the floor. Since precision apparently matters in this sort of project and no one is ever going to trust me, O walker into walls, with a jackhammer, for fear that I will way too literally be bringing down the house, I have not been recruited onto the work crew.
I’ll get my chance. Maybe in the next house. In the meantime I practice walking through doorways sans bruising and not backhanding glasses off kitchen counters, and I dream of jackhammers and streams in all the right places.