for Alex, part two

Almost two years ago, I posted about Alex and her three beautiful children. I was able to visit her last week while at my parents'. Of course, we had to take a picture so I could share with all of you how much they've grown. (If you didn't, you really should check out the other post, this one will make more sense if you do.)

Courtney commented that I looked different. Maybe it was because last time I had pink hair! Could she possibly have remembered that? Alex, show her the picture and tell me if she did remember that?!

our world was a flood

I don't expect most of you to know that is a modified line from a Jars of Clay song. But now you do. See? You learn something new everyday!

Back to the flood.

On Monday, I was at First Place, our church's administrative building. We have our offices on the second floor. The first floor is The Vine, where the Jr. and Sr. High meet. There is a game room (where the youth choir practices), a kitchen, a cafe room and restrooms.

The third floor is made up of a couple Sunday school/meeting rooms, JfON (Justice for Our Neighbors), part of Lutheran Social Services Ministry (LSSM) offices, and another non-profit whose name is escaping me at the moment.

The fourth floor is exclusively rented out by LSSM.

This will be important in a few minutes.

As I said, on Monday, I was working. We had a staff lunch. Then, the Coordinating team had their regular meeting. It was getting close to three o'clock and the sky was getting dark. I had finished up my work and had stopped to chat with Sharon, our treasurer. A few minutes into our chat and the skies opened up.

At one point, it looked like a hurricane. The rain was coming down so hard and the wind was blowing so hard, that you couldn't see the cars in the parking lot from her window (which you can usually see our parking lot, the neighboring parking lot as well as the park a few streets away). She had to go pick up her granddaughter at the bus stop and couldn't wait any longer.

I decided to give it a few minutes and went to make a pit stop before heading out.

I walked into the women's restroom to see water streaming out from under the janitor's closet, which is accessible through the women's restroom. I walked back into the office and said to no one (they were all in a meeting upstairs on the third floor) there's water in the bathroom.

Fortunately, there was a receptionist and Liz (who works for JfON) was making copies. Liz followed me back into the restroom at which point the water was flowing out from under the restroom door. No need to open it, it was clear we had an issue.

Liz asked, where's Emil (our facilities manager)? He's upstairs, I'll go get him, I said. I ran up, busted into the room where the entire office staff were meeting and said, we have water. Everyone looked at Emil. He stood up and asked where? I told him in the women's bathroom. He followed me out of the room and checked the restrooms on that floor.

I said, no it's downstairs.

By the time we got down there the water had reached halfway across the office and was an inch deep. Emil gave me the keys to his car and told me to go get the water barrier things in his trunk.

I ran outside. I took two steps before I realized my sandals were pointless. I pulled them off and grabbed the water things out of his car. I took them back inside, but couldn't find Emil.

After a few minutes of running around, I finally found him. By this point, everyone from the meeting was back in the office and they were picking up everything from the floor and unplugging everything. Somebody asked what needed to be done and Emil said go down to The Vine.

I went down there and, I think, Tish and Laure were the ones who had asked what to do so they followed me.

Water was pouring in from the ceiling. Sami was down there, unplugging and moving all the electronics. The game room, with the most electronics, was getting the worst of it.

Eventually we got everything unplugged and moved. We went back upstairs. By then Emil had shut off the main water. Water was everywhere. The decision was made to evacuate the building, because the lights were still on.

We spread the word, and I decided it was time to go home because I still had to pee. I picked up my shoes and grabbed my bags.

Apparently a pipe burst. I'm not saying I saved the building, but if it hadn't been for me, the water wouldn't have been discovered until it reached the copy room where Liz was.

It was the First Place flood of epic proportions.

Pi-day delayed...

I'm making this pie. It's to die for yummy.

I thought I blogged about Pi-day (March 14 aka 3.14)... but I did not.

Oh the posts I've written in my head... I wish they had made it into my blog.

Anyway, I'm making that pie. If you didn't click the link, you must.

And, just so you know, you can "reverse" it and use nutella instead of peanut butter and nutter butters instead of oreos. It is equally amazing. Bill prefers the latter. I actually prefer the original. But put a piece of both in front of me and I will devour them equally.

Go forth and share the pie.

It. Could. Go. All. The. Way.

I've talked about baseball before. You can go here, to read, then follow the link on that post to read even more.

I haven't mentioned (or can't find where I did) that watching baseball is a newer phenomenon in our house.

When Bill and I were first married, we lived in Detroit. Bill detested baseball. I was (and still am, sigh) a Cubs fan. Living in Detroit the odds of catching a Cubs game were as good as the Cubs winning the pennant.

Then we moved to Georgia. They have never heard of baseball. While we could afford to upgrade our cable, baseball was still not televised in the Uebbing house. There were better things to watch. Football. Formula 1 races. Trading Spaces.

I miss that show.

Then we left the south and headed into New Jersey. That meant only one thing: the Yankees.

As you all know by now, we moved back to Michigan. America's high five. We lived here for a few years and very little baseball was viewed on our tv.

I can't say I was disappointed or frustrated that Bill wasn't a baseball fan, but maybe confused. Everyone loves baseball. Even if you don't, you can pretend you do while you eat hot dogs and drink beer.

Then, when Bill was traveling to Cleveland and had his apartment in Detroit, I started watching the Cubs. I had the remote to myself, it was the middle of summer and I remembered why I liked baseball so much.

We went to a Cubs game with my cousin and his family.

Baseball was creeping into the Uebbing house.

Last year, Bill had several opportunities to go to Tigers games. For business.

The next thing I knew, we were watching baseball games at home. We were yelling at the tv. I realized I could like the Tigers (and stop explaining to everyone I met in Michigan why I was a Cubs fan).

Now, while I am not an avid fan, I do recognize more Tigers players than Cubs. But Bill... Bill has had a complete turn around. He knows stats. He knows stats! It's like he's Greg, channeling all that love for baseball. Bill asked me if there was a game on tonight, and when I said yes, he smiled.

He found the reason why this is America's favorite pastime.

While we were watching the game last night, we were discussing how neither of us has ever seen a grand slam. Granted, they don't happen that often, but they always seem to happen when it's a game we're not watching.

And then, the bases were loaded. Dirks was up-to-bat. He swung, and the crack was the perfect pitch (pun intended). It was launched into the air.

It was going...

Going...

GONE! DIRKS HIT A GRAND SLAM AND WE SAW IT!

Welcome to our home baseball. Welcome.

We're not Motel 6

They're ba-aaaack.

The spiders. They've moved in. They're everywhere. I don't like it.

It's that time of year where it's rainy, and now a little cooler again, outside. So the spiders get together and decide that the best place to relocate to is inside. My house. Your house. They don't discriminate.

Last week there was one in the shower.

Of course if you had heard me scream, you would have thought there was an ax murderer. That's the type of scream that came from within me. Fortunately, Bill knows better. That, and our house is not made for sneaking around. The stairs squeak, the floors creak, the faucets leak, and the doors finally close like normal.

I had you going there, didn't I? Now that the layers of paint have been removed from the doors, they actually close. No sticking, forcing or not-closing-all-the-way. It's grand.

But the spiders don't care.

They can sneak up on you. In the shower, in the hall, in the kitchen, on the wall.

Did I mention that one of my students was in Seussical Jr.?

Because of the spiders, I have to repaint my ceilings. Maybe I should try cleaning the spider guts off first.

Anyway, it's that time of year. The windows are open. And to spiders, that's like leaving the light on.