The Dark Underbelly of Home Ownership

This Halloween my house has decided to play some seriously nasty tricks on me.  I should have grown suspicious earlier in the week, when the trash compactor belligerently  jammed, refusing (apparently for all eternity) to open.  Yuck!  smelly trash.  I thought that was pretty gruesome and not at all anything I wanted to deal with, but alas, odor is inspiring.  I set about solving that issue, but before I could make any headway, my drains decided to get cranky too.  The kitchen sink wouldn't drain, even when I ran the disposal -- this never bodes well.  But, we were getting ready to go out trick or treating and I decided to just let things sit for a bit.  Moments after I left the kitchen though, there was an eruption and then some whirlpool action and lots of noise (so reports youngest child -- the sole surviving witness to the carnage).  Within seconds, water came pouring out from under the sink and we were all rushing for towels.  I'm guessing a poltergeist....

"But why should the kitchen have all the fun?" --said my downstairs toilet, apparently jealous of all the attention being heaped on his brother pipes.  So, the toilet joined in.  I'm sure it would've been much happier overflowing (far more dramatic you know), but since the seal at the base is apparently shot, the water just all came seeping out from under it.  Lovely.  The shower, not to outdone, choked up some nasty black stuff and the possibility of a plumber on Halloween = nil.

So, we wait and improvise bathroom accommodations for the evening.  Luckily, that vast earthquake experience I spoke of in an earlier post (here), has come in rather handy.  Our temporary commode is set up and will handle most smaller needs.  Every door and window in the house is open, as the stench is not particularly pleasant.  Since it's 35 degrees outside and dropping, it's a little chilly in here too.  Still, even frostbitten, I'm going to be sorry to shut the house up for the night in an hour or so.

Here's hoping tomorrow brings relief.  I'm trusting my friendly neighborhood plumber, Barry, to swoop down (much like Superman) and save the day.  I know -- I'm deluding myself, but hope springs eternal!