"Thank the gods," I said to myself as I carried laundry down to the lake-less basement, "the leaking's finally stopped."
As if on cue, I heard dripping water.
I turned and found a refrigerator-size (and rapidly growing) puddle under the hot water heater.
The landlord, in a surprise turn of events, answered his phone on my first call. "It's so funny, because I grew up in that house and I've never had problems with it, ever."
Well, when it rains.
More on this weather report as it develops.