Darla the Plumber?

Well, that might be stretching it, but here's the story. A couple of weekends ago my husband, Paul, embarked on his yearly "Follow the Tigers" trip when he and his friends travel to watch the University of Missouri football team play an away game; this year it was to Lincoln, Nebraska. My daughter, Doran, and I look forward to this time to do our stuff, which usually includes an out of town shopping trip, I mean, it's only fair right?

Around 10:30 p.m. on Friday night we were getting in order so we could leave as soon as possible on Saturday morning. I was cleaning up in the kitchen and, having used the last paper towel, asked Doran to go downstairs and bring up some more rolls. When she came up from the basement she offhandedly asked, "You know the basement floor is all wet, right?" (This is when everything fell apart!)

I, in my old, but still comfy Victoria's Secret robe (do not think slinky or silky here, it's cotton and covers my entire body), headed down and discovered wet carpet, wet boxes, and water dripping from a pipe on the furnace that came from who knows where. After retreating to grab a pair of Crocks, I returned and began moving boxes, old golf club bags, a set of folding tv trays and 14-year-old Lego toys out of the way so I could begin to figure out what was happening. Doran was getting a bit excited now and wanted to help so I sent her for a flashlight, some old towels and finally banished her upstairs to keep her out of my way and iron our clothes for our shopping trip I was NOT giving up on yet!

Paul, was so glad to hear from me at 11 p.m. when I semi-hysterically told him the furnace was leaking, the basement was wet and asked if he had a clue what to do! Our plumber friend was nowhere to be found or else wisely decided not to answer anyone who was calling him after 10 o'clock at night. There were more phone calls back and forth, more drama, a few raised voices and a lot more leaking water until I told both of them to leave me alone to think and if I need them, I'll let them know. I sat on the damp concrete floor in a tiny space between the water heater, furnace and wall with dirty towels and my beloved robe wrapped around my legs as I mentally inventoried the situation and what I thought would work. By about 1:30 a.m. the leak was temporarily stopped with the aid of a hose and clamp I borrowed from the dehumidifier, the cut off necks of two large balloons I found in the attic and a lot of creative thinking.

By 2 a.m. I had notified Paul, taken a shower, and climbed into bed exhausted but kind of proud that I save the day, or at least the basement, by using my creativity and whatever we had on hand. My stop gap solution held for 3 days until Paul and the plumber could handle it in a more conventional way.

The lesson to be learned is, creativity isn't just for the fine arts, it's for life and it's inside you to use anytime you want to access it; I would suggest today!