Soaked, Cold and Laughing
I thank God that I have the ability to see humor in what has been happening to us over the past year. Laughing is so much better than crying.
We are having very cold temperatures as is much of the country. The contractor had said they might be using space heaters to warm up the house since there is a delay in turning on the heat. Yesterday afternoon after I dropped DS 15 off at a friend's,I ran by the house to make sure they weren't leaving them on while no one is there. The last thing we need is another fire.
Opened the house. No space heaters, no heat, no workers. The same as it has been all week. But as I walked back to the kitchen I heard a roaring sound from the basement. I looked down the stairs but it's black dark down there with no electricity so I went back to the car to get a flashlight, tripped and toppled to the ground. Luckily I've had years of clumsiness to teach me how to fall and I wasn't hurt. Back in the house I shone the light down the steps and saw water. Water spraying onto the construction rubble coating the steps. Water covering the floor. A pipe had burst. In a house without the plumbing connected so the water is supposed to be off.
A quick call to my DH to refresh my memory on where the cutoff valve is then I inched down the steps keeping him on the phone in case I fell--which I did but only a couple of steps and I landed on a well-padded part of my body so no problem. Found the valve which the plumber had moved a bit, turned off the water. Meanwhile DH called the contractor to tell him. I didn't hang around to check the damage. My shoes, coat and pants were soaked and it was damn cold in a house that hasn't been heated in 10 months.
First fire, then flood. I laughed all the way to the shop to buy crickets for the lizards. Should have been checking for locusts. I think that's what comes next. Or maybe a plague of frogs.
I'm going to write all this down. It can use it in a murder mystery. The victim--a contractor. The suspects--all the people whose houses he's remodeling. I see it as the Money Pit meets Murder on the Orient Express.
Psychiatrist to patient: "Any suicidal thoughts?"
Patient: "No."
Psychiatrist: "Homicidal thoughts?"
Patient: "No." A long pause. "Well only about my builder."
We are having very cold temperatures as is much of the country. The contractor had said they might be using space heaters to warm up the house since there is a delay in turning on the heat. Yesterday afternoon after I dropped DS 15 off at a friend's,I ran by the house to make sure they weren't leaving them on while no one is there. The last thing we need is another fire.
Opened the house. No space heaters, no heat, no workers. The same as it has been all week. But as I walked back to the kitchen I heard a roaring sound from the basement. I looked down the stairs but it's black dark down there with no electricity so I went back to the car to get a flashlight, tripped and toppled to the ground. Luckily I've had years of clumsiness to teach me how to fall and I wasn't hurt. Back in the house I shone the light down the steps and saw water. Water spraying onto the construction rubble coating the steps. Water covering the floor. A pipe had burst. In a house without the plumbing connected so the water is supposed to be off.
A quick call to my DH to refresh my memory on where the cutoff valve is then I inched down the steps keeping him on the phone in case I fell--which I did but only a couple of steps and I landed on a well-padded part of my body so no problem. Found the valve which the plumber had moved a bit, turned off the water. Meanwhile DH called the contractor to tell him. I didn't hang around to check the damage. My shoes, coat and pants were soaked and it was damn cold in a house that hasn't been heated in 10 months.
First fire, then flood. I laughed all the way to the shop to buy crickets for the lizards. Should have been checking for locusts. I think that's what comes next. Or maybe a plague of frogs.
I'm going to write all this down. It can use it in a murder mystery. The victim--a contractor. The suspects--all the people whose houses he's remodeling. I see it as the Money Pit meets Murder on the Orient Express.
Psychiatrist to patient: "Any suicidal thoughts?"
Patient: "No."
Psychiatrist: "Homicidal thoughts?"
Patient: "No." A long pause. "Well only about my builder."
posted by rssasrb at 9:44 AM
3 Comments:
At least you can feed the lizards if you get a plaue of locusts but I suspect that's the contractor.
Oh my Bob, Robin! Geez and I know how cold its been around here lately. Water and cold don't mix. Just saying. Take care of yourself.
Eeek! No wonder it's taking so long. Think about feeding the contractor to the lizards - less sanitary, more sanity.
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