Everything is Broken

...including me.

MaHellions, it's been quite a while since my last post.  We've been busy here, moving and moving (and moving) furniture, books, CDs, pots, pans, clothes--all the crapola from the old house.  We had buyers already for the Gilligan's Island property, and were set to close on May 24th.

Then the inspection found rot and mold issues under the Gilligan's Island hacienda and all hell broke loose.  The damage was something we'd never have seen, as much of it is located under the freakin' chimney.  There is a little more where the deck joins the house and the inspector also didn't like the foundation work we just had done.

Here's what is so frustrating:  we had the chimney, deck and foundation work done by three separate licensed contractors, all of whom came highly recommended by people we knew and trusted.  It's bad enough to have issues come up when you're trying to sell a home, but when they are issues you've ALREADY PAID TO FIX, well, that's a whole new kind of pissed-off over here.

So, we're talking to NEW contractors, and the first estimate was in the $40,000-$50,000 range, but this group was not only estimating high but also pricing the work to be done by sub-contractors.  They flat-out told me that we could save money by calling the subs ourselves.  So, we're having a few more folks check it out and we'll see what we hear from them over the next week or so.

The thought of yanking that money out of the only two sources we have (retirement savings, fund for a hoped-for future adoption) makes me sick.  But there are people dealing with bigger problems than mine every day.  In the midst of being supremely angry with the contractors who did shoddy work but charged us for top level repairs, I try to remember to stop and say a prayer for folks with more serious concerns.  We do HAVE the money; we just didn't intend to spend it on this.  And Tank and the rest of our family are healthy and well.  We are not on our knees every night, praying for our child to recover from a devastating injury.  We haven't spent ten years hoping against hope that missing loved ones would be found alive.

Everything that is wrong with the Gilligan's Island house can be fixed.  And when all is said and done, we'll still be standing.  "Broken," after all, is a temporary state.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.

 

Leonard Cohen, "Anthem"

 



Look Out, Mayberry!

Oh, Taj MaHellions...so much to tell you!  I suppose that's what happens when you take a nearly four-month sabbatical from writing anything more challenging than a grocery list. 

In the past few months, we've survived Christmas, rung in a brand new year, eaten way too much Valentine candy and made plans to MOVE TO THE TAJ MAHELL.  Full-time, beyotches! 

Seems Shawn got on the radar of a corporate headhunter and his pointy little head (it truly IS pointy) got hunted.  The new job is about 50 minutes southeast of the Taj, so we will temporarily relocate there and plan a move closer to his work once our Gilligan's Island house has sold.  That should take a while, since we haven't finished the to-do list to even get it on the market.  Gee, I should start a whole new blog and then forget to write about the Gilligan renovations!  Or...maybe not.

So anyway, I know I've been MIA and both of the people who look at this blog have given up on it, but I'm planning to actually pick it up again and detail not only the remaining renovation of the Taj MaHell, but also my descent into madness as I attempt to live in a town that doesn't have a Target.  Or a mall.   Or baseball.  Or liquor-by-the-drink.  Think "wine margaritas", y'all...and FEEL MY PAIN!

On the good side, our entire demented extended family lives within minutes of the Taj, so we'll be able to drive them nuts with our shenanigans.  And possibly also get some free baby-sitting.

Mayberry-bound in 10 days.  Asylum-bound in 11.