Two days in the life of a rather deluded woman who thought she was going to get a few much-needed days of peace, quiet and relaxation.
My mother, with whom I am living until I am ready to move to France next year, is off for a few days in A.C. (Atlantic City for you non-Jerseyans) with her friends from her nursing school days -- and may I just say how cool I think it is that these women have maintained a friendship for over 50 years -- and I thought, "Great! I will have the house to myself for three whole days." This is a rare treat: I have not been alone at home for more than 8 hours since I moved back here last November.
Clearly, I was mistaken about the peace, quiet, and relaxation. I have had everything BUT.
First thing yesterday (Monday), my mother informed me that the fencing contractor decided he was starting work THAT DAY on her new backyard fence project. Fortunately the contractor showed up before Mom left for A.C. so she could deal with him directly. After all, it's not MY house.
An hour after my mom left, I was in the basement and noticed a large spreading puddle directly under the cold water tank, which brings in water from our well. Not a good sign. Upon closer inspection, I found a leak in one of the 43-year-old copper pipes. Then I found a bucket to put UNDER the dripping pipe. Then I went upstairs to try and find a phone number of a (hopefully) reliable, and even more importantly, AVAILABLE plumber.
Yureka! My mother had written the number of a plumber in her personal address book, and since it wasn't crossed out, I figured he was someone she had a good experience with in the past, so I called. Answering machine: left my message with proper sense of urgency and made sure to mention my mother had used his services in the past. This was a risky tactic, because Mom has a history of not being happy with contractors - many times for perfectly sound reasons on her part, but she is also very difficult to please and that doesn't always make for a good contractor/homeowner relationship. I was crossing my fingers that the plumber wouldn't hold it against me in my appeal for help.
It was now about 11am. On Monday's I go to work at my part-time job by about 2:15pm. I now have wasted most of my morning with all these distractions. I put in a little time on a client project and then phone the client to give her an update. She is very happy with my report, so I feel like I at least accomplished one productive thing. I then make some lunch, get ready for work, and head out. When I leave, the fence guys have finished digging all the post holes and have actually put up a couple of sections of fence. It really looks nice and I can begin to imagine the finished effect.
When I come home at 9:30, the first thing I do is check the answering machine to see if the plumber has called back. He has not. I head to the basement to see how full the bucket is after 7+ hours of constant drip-drip-drip. Nearly full, so I find another bucket to swap out and empty the full one outside in a flowerbed. No sense wasting water.
I then grab a lantern and go out the back door to see how far the fence guys have gotten - and am astonished to see they have very nearly completed the entire fence, except for about 3 sections at the back and the other side section, and hanging the 2 gates. I am very impressed with how quickly they worked, with only 2 men and the occasional appearance of the boss.
As I walk the perimeter of the yard, I am trying to look at it through my mother's critical eyes. Is everything straight and level? Yes, looks good. Check. Did they leave a big mess? No, they tidied up pretty well. Check. Does the fence look nice, now that they did all that work? Yes, and I think Mom will be very happy with her choice and with their work. Then, I notice it: The Flaw.
The Flaw is that Mom chose a white cedar wood picket fence with a finial cut at the top. It matches the next-door-neighbor's fence in style and it looks lovely. However, the cuts of the finials are very, VERY rough with large splintery pieces sticking out where they had to make the curved cuts. Mom is someone who would notice it and it would really bother her. I put that on my mental list of things to discuss with the contractor the next day.
Tuesday morning (today). I wake up, check the bucket in the basement - full. Leak appears to be accelerating in the volume of water it's putting out. I call the plumber again and leave another message asking him to call me by 10 am so I know if he's available or not, so I can decide if I need to call a different plumber. Fence guys show up for work again, and I tell them how pleased I am with what they've done so far. It's nice to give some good feedback when someone has clearly worked so hard. At least one thing is going right around the house, because I am starting to feel like a homeowner with all the responsibility and aggravation that entails.
A bit before 10, the plumber actually calls back, and says he can be there in 10 minutes! It's a miracle! He shows up takes a look, gets his equipment and in under an hour, problem solved: new copper piping, and a new shut-off valve and gauge as well. Plus, he re-routed the path of the pipes so it actually made common sense: the yahoos who did the job in 1962 made it much more complicated than it ever needed to be. $125 later, all is well again.
SIDEBAR: While talking with the plumber, I trip over the garden hose the fence guy had left lying out on the front sidewalk, skinning my knee and bruising the palm of one hand. I don't really blame HIM - I saw the damn thing plain as day, and just failed to step over it. Add this to the list of non-relaxing things going on.
Around 11, my mother called to check in on the fence progress. I gave her a good report and told her they were nearly finished and were working on installing the gates. She was both happy and amazed at the fast turnaround - I think she had waited so long to get them to come in the first place, it was hard for her to grasp how fast they could actually work once they did show up! I left out the part about the big splinters and never told her about the plumber - why spoil her good time and peace of mind. In retrospect, I think it was a good thing she was out of town... she would have been stressing out for the past 48 hours if she'd been here. And when Momma ain't happy, ain't NOBODY happy.
15 minutes later, the fence guy calls me outside to look at a "small problem" with the larger of the two gates. Mom had specified the gates were to open inward, toward the back yard. However, the lay of the land behind the big gate was preventing the gate from opening all the way - there was a raised area none of us had noticed or accounted for. Either they had to dig out some of the earth or they had to shave off some of the bottom of the gate.
I hate having to make decisions like this about my mother's home because inevitably, no matter what I choose, it will usually prove to be the WRONG choice in her eyes. I try but am unable to reach Mom by her cell phone (from which she just called me minutes earlier), so I make an "executive decision": split the difference, and have the men dig out a little dirt as well as shave off a little from the bottom of the fence. It seemed the least intrusive solution that would allow the gate to look as balanced as possible without digging a big gaping hole in the yard When they finished, it worked and looked just fine so I think Mom will be OK with it. WHEW! Another crisis averted. (The finished double-gate is shown in the photo if you are curious.)
Next, my niece Beth (age 13) showed up, dropped off by her mother (my sister, Sue) without warning. Not that I really mind, I adore my sister's kids and feel glad to be able to see a lot of them. Sue had some more cleanup to do at her house that they are selling on Friday, so Beth has been here all afternoon and is now happily watching "Cocoon" on DVD, which she's never seen. At 6:30 I will drive her to her play rehearsal (she has the title role in "Chicken Little" in a local children's theatre production).
It is now 4:00 pm. I am exhausted and I have done NOTHING other than update a client's web site (which took all of about 15 minutes) and take a brief call from a client in New Zealand (it's 8:00am tomorrow there - at least one of us had slept before the phone meeting; sadly, it wasn't me and I really feel like I need a nap). By my calculations, I have had exactly 3 hours to do any truly productive work in the past 2 days. Tomorrow I will fare no better - Beth and I have a date to get manis and pedis, after I drive her to her orthodontist check-up. With her parents trying to sell an old house, build a new house, and ship her older brother to college on Thursday for his freshman year, Mom and I are trying to help out any way we can, such as dog-sitting, and chauffering or entertaining Beth. After our spa-date, I will drive her home and pick up their Golden to bring her back here, so she can try out the new back yard and not be alone on Thursday when they take Steve to college.
Suffice to say, this was NOT the two days of freedom and relaxation I was hoping for. I guess two days is literally just a drop in the bucket of my life. Oh well... C'est la vie, eh?