This is reality, Greg.

I don't know if you remember the movie E.T.? Apparently it just played at Screen on the Green, and it would've been a delight to sit outside and watch it.

And I bring it up because our house has gotten very E.T. towards the end, when the Feds discover that Eliot has an alien at his house and they quarantine it and cover it in plastic and there are all these tubes and machines and such.

You know, I know how that movie ends, and still I sob when it looks like he's going to die, and I get all panicked when they are trying to escape. I do not know why this is, but it is so.

In any case.

That's the second floor room that India used to sleep in, which the elevator goes through. The part of the closet that hasn't fallen in or been pulled off will basically be ripped out. We're hoping the floor isn't ruined. We've already thrown out half the closet contents and are washing or dry cleaning the rest.

The photo below is Betty's room. Thankfully, she's visiting Maude's parents. Because she wouldn't be able to get to the elevator. And you can't use the stairs, because they're blocked off on the ground floor (top picture).

We have a plastic areas on every floor, and gigantor fans and dehumidifiers that suck 16 gallons of water per hour! This I find very impressive, I don't know why.

I have lots more pictures I was going to post, but then I was like, do they need to see every damn room and hallway with plastic and tubing and a big water sucky machine?

Anyway. Let me sum up.

Some of you may recall how we moved in just over four years ago and immediately commenced construction and really only got done with indoor construction, what, right before India was born?

I mean, now Jordan is almost four and has basically grown up with Australian Builder and Hector Big Wood.

So. We went away for five days. Last Wednesday to Sunday. We so rarely go away, almost never for that long.  But we did. All of us. We went to Nick's work retreat, and Betty went to Vermont.

And during that time, the AC on the fourth floor backed up and flooded. Soaked through the floor, through the wall, through my mom's closet, through what used to be the nursery closet (which, being one of our only closets, was packed to the gills with coats, comforter, clothes, stuff), through another wall, through the dining room ceiling, and down to the dining room floor.

Water turns out to be very terrible, even if it's not a tsunami. Fuckity fuck, basically. It is a giant fucking disaster.

That said, nothing bad befell any of us, and honestly, it's only money and stuff and a big hassle. We have too much stuff. But we can always use more hassle.

Also, everyone we have dealt with, except the initial claims people, who were the ones who broke the news about how our agent snuck in a whopping deductible, has been lovely. Totally professional and very pleasant. The appraiser and all the water mitigation people have been fantastic.

Which is good, because they've spent a lot of time with us lately, and it doesn't look like their visits are going to end anytime soon. The asbestos-checker arrives at 7:00 am tomorrow, the water mitigation fellows arrive around 10:00.

So, basically, I'll...be....right...here.

(I love E.T. Love. Makes me cry every time.)