Sooo, we're in our "new" (18 year old) house and it's Spring. Our house is surrounded by trees. Which is beautiful! But also clogs the gutters. Which didn't get inspected during our home inspection in February. Or we would have known they were clogged and the overflowing water lands right next to the foundation. Add to that the fact that we got an inch of rain in less than 20 minutes in last night's storm and you have yourself a sump pump adventure!
The sump pump was running, thank God. But it would pump water out, then the entire pipe leading out of the house would drain back into the sump pump. This is when we learned about check valves! And that ours was obviously not functioning properly.
Next, the formerly clean as a whistle sump pump well was muddy with leaves and bugs floating in it. Hmmmm. We went outside to find the exit pipe running out of the house and into the ground. And when the sump pump ran, water was bubbling up out of the ground. Hmmmm. My brother (the Masters in Theoretical and Mechanical Engineering) explained that the sump pump system was probably sucking up muddy, debris laden water from the ground and depositing it in the well. Where it would get sucked back up through the sump pump, into the ground, back into the sump pump well...you get the picture. F-----d up.
Now I have exactly 12 minutes to get to Lowe's to at least buy a check valve to keep the muddy water out of the well. My husband wants to "wait until tomorrow." I'm picturing a clogged sump pump by morning. So instead of arguing, I say "at least let me go buy one and we'll see how it goes." Read "we're replacing this sucker when I get back." What he hears, "you're right, we'll wait until tomorrow." So I get to Lowe's ONE MINUTE before closing, grab a check valve and zip home. Where I encounter my husband who has started drinking whiskey! I'm like WTF, we have work to do. He's all "I thought we agreed to wait." Needless to say, we replaced the check valve.
Let me explain about my husband and I. I was raised by a man who grew up taking apart cars at the junk yard for fun. I wasn't allowed to drive alone until I could a) change a flat by myself, b) change the oil in my car, and c) un-flood the carburetor that regularly flooded in the car I was going to drive. And just for a bonus, I also learned to tune up the car. Sigh, I loved my '72 Olds Cutlass Supreme convertible in burnt orange with white leather interior.
But I digress. Basically, at my house, we fixed things. We repaired things. We rarely called in a pro. We didn't build our own house or anything, although my grandfather did build a summer home. My brother turned worked as a mechanic before completing his Master's in Engineering.
My husband, on the other hand, was raised by the King of Duct Tape. If it couldn't be fixed with duct tape, it either didn't get fixed or the pro had to come in. It's not my FIL's fault, he was raised the same way. But my husband is hesitant when it comes to any DIY other than rough carpentry. When we lived in our first home in Enid, OK, the house we rented had screens with a lot of holes. Holes that let in bugs and many mosquitoes. I would look at the screens and wonder, do I re-screen the damn things in a house we're renting or just patch the holes with screen repair patches? Well, my husband took care of the problem before I could decide. I came home from work one day and there were patches of duct tape on every screen in the house.
Gotta go, when the rain lets up, we have to dig around the exit pipe and figure out how to drain the water AWAY from the foundation of the house. Then get on the roof and clean the gutters, hoping the down spouts aren't filled with crap too. Did I mention my husband doesn't really like ladders and heights?
Ah, home ownership. What a joy!
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