During the last round of thunderstorms, I noticed that no water was coming out of the downspouts from our eavestroughs (rain gutters, for our American pals). There was, however, water pouring out of the top of the gutters at the corner of the house. Mr. Flair and I decide that a ladder would be retrieved from my dad’s house, and we’d clean it this weekend.
The ladder proved to be about 3 feet short for safe roof access. Hmmmmm…We knew for sure that the eavestroughs were filled with water, and that this was something that needed to be fixed sooner rather that later.
“Maybe I’ll give it a poke with the hook part of a hockey stick and see how that goes” he said in a fitting Canada Day weekend solution to our problem. The hockey stick hooked nicely into the trough, and he gave a little poke near the downspout opening.
All of a sudden, I had to jump out of the way, as dozens of litres of brown water came shooting out of the end of the downspout. It quickly became overwhelmed, and the open joint where the down spout bends looked like a busted water main, with water screaming vertically out of the pipe.
In all the excitement, I completely missed the projectile that ended up in the middle of the backyard - a softball sized clump of … stuff. Brown goo, seedlings starting to take root, broken robin egg shells, semi decomposed spruce cones.
A sudden release of unexpectedly huge amounts of vile fluid - doesn’t that remind you of more than a few threads around here?