My husband, Destro the Destroyer*
So this weekend was a bit of a disaster.
We were having our friends Kim, Eric (aka KillaWatts) and Joe (Jo-ey!!) help us with the further demolition and reconstruction of our roof (props to all of them!) and from moment one it was problem after problem.
Phase One: Leaving town. Friday night and everyone is ready to go. Except Eugene. Stuck at work until 9:30, we don't leave until ten - meaning an arrival time of 1:30 in the morning. An early morning start is unlikely.
Phase Two: Actual demo. There's nothing like ripping off your perfectly fine looking roof and disovering that you have water damage, ant damage and a mice condo rotting your roof. And then having a freak rainstorm start right after you have excavated a lot of the damage - leaving a huge hole in your roof. And then, while waiting for the rain to pass, seeing a big water spot develop on your ceiling. Hee! Home ownership is great!
Phase Three: Reconstruction. Things actually went relatively smoothly on Sunday. Some of our neighbors came over and helped and no more major disasters presented themselves until...
Phase Four: Going Home. We left VT around 9pm, pleased that the problems with the roof had been corrected - to the degree that they could be - and the whole thing had gotten its waterproof covering. Granted, we could have left earlier but the work crew was enjoying some beers and a few moments of actual relaxation.
Almost three hours later, in the hinterlands of Connecticut, our car decided it had had enough of all this driving stuff and quit on us. We managed to make our way to an exit (the Parkway we were on had no shoulder - yikes!) and into a Park n' Ride parking lot.
Unfortunately, the Park n' Ride lot was not actually adjacent to any form of public transportation - a mystery for the ages to be sure. It mostly seemed like a likely place for clandestine meetings. Numerous vehicles pulled in and, upon seeing the group of us standing there, pulled out. Either they were looking for a hook-up, or we are all a lot scarier looking than I thought.
So, we call AAA and try to figure our next move. A very surly State Trooper (I know, it's redundant as all State Troopers seem to be surly) stops and gives us virtually no useful information aside from the fact that the train station is "far away" and you can get toll-free (!!!) information by calling 1.800.373.3411 (1.800.FREE.411 - clever). He then drives away - unconcerned by our plight.
Luckily, Eugene has a cousin who lives in the area (the benefits of having a family that practically blankets the tri-state area finally emerges!) and she - hereafter and forever to be referred to as 'Saint April' - was willing to come to our aid. She showed up with her SUV and a shockingly cheerful mood - for someone so rudely awakened at 12:30 on a sunday night.
What ensued was an oddysey of train stations, subaru dealerships, motels and rest areas that didn't conclude until almost almost 4 am. Or at least that was when we all got to go to sleep at April's condo. We then had to catch a 7:36 am train into New York so that we could all, exhausted as we were, drag ourselves to our respective jobs.
My apologies, again, to all parties involved.
My especial apology to our credit card, which will have to bear the brunt of the $1200 it will cost to get our car fixed plus the $100 or so that it cost to get it towed. Not to mention the $500 or so that we had to spend on additional roofing materials to deal with the mess that was uncovered.
Good thing we are made of money! And have a money tree planted in the back yard!
When we look to buy a primary residence, I am thinking co-op. Let somebody else worry about the roof and the pipes and the multitude of other things that are bound to go wrong with a house.
My husband, the masochist, is still thinking 'house, house, house.'
*This is the nickname that he was given by Eric - based on his love for Halloween cotumes that involve body paint and, naturally, his baldness... but it seems particlarly apropos to this weekend.
We were having our friends Kim, Eric (aka KillaWatts) and Joe (Jo-ey!!) help us with the further demolition and reconstruction of our roof (props to all of them!) and from moment one it was problem after problem.
Phase One: Leaving town. Friday night and everyone is ready to go. Except Eugene. Stuck at work until 9:30, we don't leave until ten - meaning an arrival time of 1:30 in the morning. An early morning start is unlikely.
Phase Two: Actual demo. There's nothing like ripping off your perfectly fine looking roof and disovering that you have water damage, ant damage and a mice condo rotting your roof. And then having a freak rainstorm start right after you have excavated a lot of the damage - leaving a huge hole in your roof. And then, while waiting for the rain to pass, seeing a big water spot develop on your ceiling. Hee! Home ownership is great!
Phase Three: Reconstruction. Things actually went relatively smoothly on Sunday. Some of our neighbors came over and helped and no more major disasters presented themselves until...
Phase Four: Going Home. We left VT around 9pm, pleased that the problems with the roof had been corrected - to the degree that they could be - and the whole thing had gotten its waterproof covering. Granted, we could have left earlier but the work crew was enjoying some beers and a few moments of actual relaxation.
Almost three hours later, in the hinterlands of Connecticut, our car decided it had had enough of all this driving stuff and quit on us. We managed to make our way to an exit (the Parkway we were on had no shoulder - yikes!) and into a Park n' Ride parking lot.
Unfortunately, the Park n' Ride lot was not actually adjacent to any form of public transportation - a mystery for the ages to be sure. It mostly seemed like a likely place for clandestine meetings. Numerous vehicles pulled in and, upon seeing the group of us standing there, pulled out. Either they were looking for a hook-up, or we are all a lot scarier looking than I thought.
So, we call AAA and try to figure our next move. A very surly State Trooper (I know, it's redundant as all State Troopers seem to be surly) stops and gives us virtually no useful information aside from the fact that the train station is "far away" and you can get toll-free (!!!) information by calling 1.800.373.3411 (1.800.FREE.411 - clever). He then drives away - unconcerned by our plight.
Luckily, Eugene has a cousin who lives in the area (the benefits of having a family that practically blankets the tri-state area finally emerges!) and she - hereafter and forever to be referred to as 'Saint April' - was willing to come to our aid. She showed up with her SUV and a shockingly cheerful mood - for someone so rudely awakened at 12:30 on a sunday night.
What ensued was an oddysey of train stations, subaru dealerships, motels and rest areas that didn't conclude until almost almost 4 am. Or at least that was when we all got to go to sleep at April's condo. We then had to catch a 7:36 am train into New York so that we could all, exhausted as we were, drag ourselves to our respective jobs.
My apologies, again, to all parties involved.
My especial apology to our credit card, which will have to bear the brunt of the $1200 it will cost to get our car fixed plus the $100 or so that it cost to get it towed. Not to mention the $500 or so that we had to spend on additional roofing materials to deal with the mess that was uncovered.
Good thing we are made of money! And have a money tree planted in the back yard!
When we look to buy a primary residence, I am thinking co-op. Let somebody else worry about the roof and the pipes and the multitude of other things that are bound to go wrong with a house.
My husband, the masochist, is still thinking 'house, house, house.'
*This is the nickname that he was given by Eric - based on his love for Halloween cotumes that involve body paint and, naturally, his baldness... but it seems particlarly apropos to this weekend.
3 comments:
Oh! That is a very sad story!!! What turned out to be wrong with the subaru?
At least you found out about the rotten roof by fixing it, instead of by coming home to find 10 tons of Vermont snow in the middle of your living, covering a little mouse cemetary!
Our clutch is kaput. After 107,000 miles I suppose it's not all that shocking.
But apparently the place the tow truck should have taken us was only 5 miles away - rather than the 30 miles we got towed - and we paid $4 a mile for the pleasure!
oh honey! I'm so sorry! crummy crummy crummy. But it'll all be OK. Besides, the worst is passed...and Heather's right about the dead mice in the snow thing.
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