Like a man possessed, I've been on a mission over the past month or so, cleaning out the eavestroughs, installing a new downpipe, getting a large tree removed from the corner of the yard, regrading the west side of the house so water doesn't pool by the foundation.
"Hey Mike, do you want some window well covers?" asked Albert, my DYI neighbour from across the street. "These don't fit my house and I've had them too long to return to Home Depot."
"Sure, that would be great," I replied. "I was just thinking about buying some."
Talk about a good neighbour!
After carefully installing the covers on my four most vulnerable window wells, I felt set.
My next door neighbour Sean couldn't help but notice my Noah-like initiative to build a leak proof home.
"Are you expecting a flood?" he quipped.
"You never know," I answered.
And then it came. Last Friday night, the skies opened up with a deluge of rain the likes of which we haven't seen since the storm of 2005.
Today, the curb of our street is lined with wet carpet remnants, ruined laminate, soggy chesterfields and chairs. Small vans from companies that specialize in restorations are parked in every fifth or sixth driveway. Officials from the Town of Markham are here to assess the damage. It's a mess and I sympathize with all those whose basements are flooded.
Yes, I was prepared. Yes, I was lucky. And no, I'm not smug about it.
I only wish I had been a little more like the Biblical Noah who actually warned others about an impending disaster.
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