Strange Days at the Ranch

Well, I don't actually live at a ranch, but the days certainly were strange. So, I think I've written about my housemate here. The one who was a month and a half late in arriving because of an accident in St. Louis? Well, she'd been living with me for a couple of months and everything seemed great. S he worked for a facility that helps get kids off of drugs and four of those facilities were going to order Pampered Chef stuff for their kitchens. I was about to have the best two months of my Pampered Chef career.

But the day to get the money for those orders kept getting put off and put off. I was getting impatient. Yet it was still another day and another day. I tried not to be angry about it. Didn't want to look a gift-horse in the mouth, you know.

Anyway, Tuesday, I spoke to my housemate by phone because I needed a phone number I'd left at home. She was out (getting the money, so she said) but she called when she got back home and gave me the number. When I got home from work, she wasn't there. Neither was the money as near as I could see. I went to choir practice (for the Billy Graham Crusade--it's going to be a huge choir!) and came home. Still she wasn't there. I figured she was working late.

I went to bed at 1am and still she wasn't there. I left a note for her to please leave the money where I could find it so I could take it to the bank in the morning.

In the morning I heard a guy on the radio say his basement was flooded. Made me think. So I tip-toed downstairs to see how my basement fared. It was wet. All over wet. I needed to see. I had already seen she wasn't in the bed, but when I turned on the light, worried that her things might be wet, I found nothing to worry about. Really. She had nothing down there.

Now, she had said she would be going to Colorado for a couple of days to get a kid, but this was ridiculous. Did she really think I'm that stupid? She took everything. All her clothes, her coffee maker and food, everything. I found the keys and the garage door opener pad in a drawer in the bathroom. You don't need all that stuff and then leave your keys behind for a couple of days.

She moved out. Suddenly, without notice, without even a good-bye.

I can draw two conclusions for this: 1) She is a pathological liar, and a talented one, at that. But I kept asking for the ficticious money and so she was going to have to come clean or clean out. She cleaned out. 2) She wasn't lying about her job, her boss, her boss's wife (who ordered quite a bit as well), the order, or the money. So why then leave in the middle of a month you've already paid rent for? That was about $7800 that was couriered down, that she and her co-worker had to sign for. You put the pieces together.

I've tried calling the boss's wife, but the number I was given is apparently not valid. I've e-mailed the boss, but it's a yahoo.com address, easily faked. I know the name of her co-worker but I can't find him--or at least not the specific him. You see the company she worked for is very private. I don't know the name or location. I'm lucky to know the name of her co-worker or boss. But is any of that true? I'm beginning to doubt. I'm leaning toward conclusion #1.

But on to the basement. We got drenched. My neighbor said that earlier in the morning he couldn't see my house from his porch. They're not that far away, folks. That's heavy rain. My pond had expanded to twice it's size at least and the ground was just super-saturated.

And so the water was coming through my basement walls. It was more than the drains could manage. So it flooded. By noon it had drained down to just wet for the most part. After work, my friend and I changed the door knobs on the entry doors of the house (just in case my housemate had made copies and intended to return and rob me. Paranoia wasn't such a bad idea in this case.) and then my new mom and aunt came by and helped sweep the remaining puzzles toward the drains downstairs.

By the time I was ready for bed--about 11:30. It was a draining day. No pun intended.--water was still seeping in, though not so much that the drains couldn't deal with it. Mud was coming in at one place, too.

I wanted to cry. I've only had the house for 7 months. It's not like I have a lot of equity for a home equity loan for a costly repair. So I prayed. I thanked God, giving Him credit for all I have: the house, the car, the talent, the imagination, the kitties, the dreams, everthing. And I asked Him to provide, and to make the water stop.

This morning I woke up and checked the basement. It's mostly dry. Prayer answered. Now I just need to see about how to fix it so the basement doesn't flood again. And trust that He will provide.