As I write this, burley garbage men are picking up washed out book cases and soggy carpet and manfully tossing them into a garbage truck. It's glorious. [Does Mrs. Stroock know about this?-Ed] Those are union jobs. That's time and a half at least.
What a week. We hauled our entire basement out to the curb. We are tired and sore and sleeping so deeply no amount of nudging from Mrs. Stroock stops our snoring. Our throat is dry and crackly. The dust and mold in the basement doesn't help. To put it another way, we're exhausted. And there's still work to do.
These are not complaints. There are people in New Jersey who lost everything, including 27 dead, two from Bridgewater. From the moment we came home we felt we dodged a bullet.
A contractor is coming on Tuesday to remediate flood damage. This entails removing drywall and insulation, drying out and bombing the basement with a disinfectant. From there we can talk drywall repair.
Next step, carpet. Interesting question. Do we buy new bookcases or hire a carpenter to put new shelves in?
We're not worried about further floods. In 16 years this was the first time we flooded.
Reader(s) will recall that we posted a photo of our Somerset Patriots' stadium under water after Ida. Last night:
It was a cool, crisp, beautiful night. Before the Fauci Flu the Fami de Stroock would catch half a dozen games a year. This was our first game back since the Beijing Bat Bug. Goddamn, but if we didn't get emotional sitting there thinking about it.

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