|ALL the furniture must be moved. All.|
Sometimes I feel like I'm hosting a contractor convention- and I'm the keynote speaker as well as the janitor.
On Friday afternoon, we had our heating and cooling guys out yet again. "But Keely," you ask. "Didn't you just pay close to 4k for an a brand new a/c system?" Yup. Yes, we did. "And Keely," you insist. "Didn't they leave the job with only one floor cooled, completely undermining the crux of the project, which was to get non-polluted air into your infant's room, the one on the first floor?" Yes, but we'll leave that alone for now.
Last week we had one night that was in the upper 80s. And, being that the two larger bedrooms are in what is essentially a converted attic, 'twas boiling. We were excited(ish) to use our new a/c. And that jubilation lasted until hour six of having the system on. Because, even after six hours of "cooling," the thermostat read 86 degrees.
THAT'S NOT RIGHT, we said to ourselves. WE'VE SPENT WAAAAAY TOO MUCH MONEY FOR 86 DEGREES.
So our guys came out. And found that the compressor was completely devoid of freon. Because there was a leak somewhere in the 3-week old system. AND THAT'S NOT GOOD.
It was found within an hour and easily [?] patched. The guy was slightly shocked at how sloppy one of the connectors was. I wasn't. If you'll recall, the a/c guy left our home a few weeks ago after telling me how much he hated our house. (I mean, I hate our house, too, but I rarely let it affect the job.)
And lest you think that, just because the plumbers have finished their two-week downstairs pilgrimage, the work is DONE...oh no. Because yesterday, right around the time we were playing Whole House Jenga in preparation of the renovation, we discovered a leak. In the tub. You know, the tub that wasn't part of this demolition? And in the under-stair crawlspace (where we were attempting to Tetris some more storage boxes), we found that the newly dug and re-cemented concrete was wet. Whether from the extreme rain yesterday or someone's tears, I cared not. Because it meant that the plumbers had to come back today. The day that the renovators were to have started.
There's really only one explanation: Ghosts.
Back when I was hugely pregnant with Nora and we were "fixing up" this place (hahahahahaha), I could swear that I felt someone behind me all the time. Then it stopped. Or maybe I was too tired with a newborn to care if someone was stomping about upstairs. But now? Maybe the previous owner is pissed that we're digging up his house. Or perhaps he's the one causing the splodey-ness.
It's honestly the only rational cause for this ruckus.
Have you ever had ghosts/a slum for a house? Do you have a drink for me? Doesn't having these questions in bold remind you of Encyclopedia Brown endings? Comment below.
Or walk over with a drink. I'm not picky. (Clearly.)