I count myself extraordinarily fortunate in more ways than I can name. I have a wonderful, supportive family, a job I love, a home I love, my health (more or less), the whole nine yards of blessings. Yet nothing drives home how fortunate I am in my community more than days like today.
My basement, at the moment, is a rather poor indoor wading pool (about 4 or 5 inches deep). It started filling at around 10:45 or so last night, and was just tapering off at 3AM when I gave up and went to bed. Because I wasn’t able to get my pump to work, I was left with the cheery prospect of the functional equivalent of bailing out the ocean with teaspoons — using a shop vac to clear too many gallons of standing water (not really a good one-person job, by the way).
Because I am a loud complainer via social media (hey, everyone needs a talent!), I aired my grievances with nature and homeownership on Facebook. My community came to my rescue, with offers of help from more than one incredibly kind and generous person. I had just arranged to borrow a pump from a friend (Thanks, Swasti! Thanks, Josh!) when one of my retired colleagues (Saint Ken!) suddenly showed up at my door with two pumps ready to go. A job that could have taken until my own replacement pump arrived tomorrow will now only take most of the day, and will be a LOT less exhausting, stressful, Sisyphean, and awful.
My gratitude is boundless at this moment. I am so fortunate in my community. They have helped me repair toilets, repair faucets, and a dozen other things. I could not ask for better, and I feel so profoundly indebted to them all that I hardly know what to do, other than offer my own help in return when needed. Oh, and possibly a beer.
Back to the ocean I go…