I’ve gotten a lot of questions from y’all about how it’s going with the house. (See Chapter One)
It’s going GREAT! YES! I CAN DO THIS!
So. A couple weeks ago, my kitchen ceiling had started to buckle and leak in a major way.
When a plumber was finally able to show up, he first asked his assistant to take part of the kitchen’s drop ceiling down to see what was going on with the upstairs water pipe running above it; and there was a big kerfuffle; and tons of stuff came down; and we all sort of scrambled; and all I know is the kitchen ceiling and its contents did not hit ME on MY head; but it did hit the assistant on HIS head; and as I freaked out, saying “Are you OK, are you OK?” I also was wondering, “AM I OK? I SHOULD’VE ASKED THEM IF THEY HAD INSURANCE!”
Fortunately, the assistant shouted, “IT’S OK! I’M OK!” And I had him sign a waiver while he was still uncertain as to his medical status. He might have bled on it.
I would post real photos of the drop ceiling treasure trove here, but I don’t know how. Let’s just say that when the ceiling fell down, here is just some of what we found in the rubble—and I am not kidding:
- Part of a shiny granola bar wrapper
- A green bowl
- A heavy antique brown wooden doorknob
Me, to plumber: “How would all that get up there? I’m guessing a regular squirrel could get the wrapper and the cap up there…but what kind of Incredible Hulk-type of squirrel managed to get a heavy doorknob AND a bowl up there…and what might have been his evil intentions?”
Plumber: “Oh, you’d be surprised what you see in drop ceilings — ha ha ha!”
He went on to tell me that apparently the 1893 house has “galvanized” pipes that “easily rust out” and “something else boring about pipes lalalalala” and then gave a $10,000 plus estimate to replace all the pipes.
So for $1,000 I simply had them shut the water off to that part of the house, left the ceiling torn up, and overall essentially paid a pretty big bill for what was basically looking at a shiny granola bar wrapper and other stuff.
I told them I’d have to get back to them on finishing the job and then work on the rest of the pipes in the house, I would just have to find the money. They laughed, took the check, got in the truck and sped away to their next nightmare.
I sat alone in my dear, old, doddering Money Pit with all its secrets found and not yet found, contemplating my own nightmare. Thinking about how the sh—just keeps piling on, and on, and on.
“I can do this…I can do this…I CAN DO THIS,” I chanted as I rocked back and forth—in one hand, clutching my new thousand-dollar doorknob, and in the other hand, checking my makeup in the reflection of the granola bar wrapper.
