Houses Built on Sand and Silver Linings

If you've been following these posts the past few days, you know that Monday night I discovered that the condensate from the HVAC drain had seeped under a partition and soaked an area rug in a storage area. I used the wet-dry vac on the carpet and then cut it into pieces to take it out since the sodden carpet was too heavy to lift in one piece. There was about a foot wide piece I left since it ran under a couple of seven-foot tall bookcases loaded with books and a couple of four-drawer files cabinets loaded with files.

I went downstairs Tuesday evening to move the bookcases and file cabinets and take the last of the carpet out. I thought about unloading the bookcases before I moved them.  I decided I could move them without unloading them.

At this point I am reminded of the parable of the wise and foolish builders from the Gospel of Matthew.

Matthew 7:24-27:  (ASV) Every one therefore that heareth these words of mine, and doeth them, shall be likened unto a wise man, who built his house upon the rock: and the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and if fell not: for it was founded upon the rock. And every one that heareth these words of mine, and doeth them not, shall be likened unto a foolish man, who built his house upon the sand: and the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and smote upon that house; and it fell: and great was the fall thereof.

Put me down for a foolish man in trying to move a fully loaded bookcase. I moved one off the carpet with success and started on the other one.  The interior shelves were held by those  thin metal clips, one of which broke under the stress of being shifted.  The shelf (and books) fell onto the shelf and books below it and the next and the next.  There was a cascade of books pouring out of the bookcase.  I had two thoughts: It's raining books and "great was the fall thereof." Even though I don't move as quickly as I used to, I leaped out of the way of the torrent of hard- and paperbacks with considerable alacrity.

I think I said that the silver lining in taking up the carpet was finding a dulcimer neck to a kit I had lost track of.  In this case, the silver lining was going through all the fallen books, some of which I had forgotten I owned.  I listened over the radio to the Nats pound the Braves and stacked books for an hour.

In spite of the fall, it was enjoyable.  Sometimes even a foolish man lucks out.