Yesterday northeastern Wisconsin experienced a very nasty ice storm. We lost power at 5 AM, and I went down to the basement to check on the sump pump, which carries water collected from the back yard (of which there was a lot) and sends it away. But the pump needs electricity to run, and the reservoir was almost full. My husband and I spent all morning bailing the water by hand, and I kept checking the water level with my fingers.
At one point I told him "We're holding our own." And then I remembered that was the last radio message sent by the captain of the Edmund Fitzgerald.
