How do you know it's a weekend?

Because it's raining.

In order to beat the thunderstorm forecast for Sunday, Kristie and I logged about a nine hour workday yesterday trying to help keep our basement dry.

This meant tearing up all the shrubbery the previous owners had planted on the east side of our house. The previous owners planted two small shrubs to hide the central air condition that sits outside. However, those shrubs quickly grew into monstrosities that crowded the central air unit and whose roots played havoc with our foundation. The previous owners also had an outdoor sump pump installed to keep water out of the basement.

This was futile because water still gets in. So Kristie and I did some inspecting a few days ago and found out a major wash out around the sump pump. We've noticed all the fine sand the sump pump has been spitting out with excess water over the past few months.

Apparently, the sand must get pumped out and the dirt from around our foundation must get sucked in to fill the void, thus the huge washout.

So we headed out to Dad's to get a pick up full of dirt to pack in around the sump pump.

All in all, not a bad day's work. The only downer was the fact that it was a beautiful Saturday.

However, the highlight of the day came when I was able to get a good zinger in on Kristie. She was shoveling the dirt from the pick up into a wheelbarrow while I was standing next to the sump pump packing the dirt in next to our foundation.

I finished packing and asked Kristie, "Is it coming tonight?"

"What?" she asked from the pickup bed.

"Is it coming tonight?"

Then I heard a chuckle from next door where our neighbor, Nancy, was out doing some of her own yard work.

Then the wisecrack dawned on Kristie.

"Is the load of dirt coming tonight?" I finished.

I don't get those type of zingers in very often, so I have to gloat when I can!