It began with the car. First a traffic ticket and then I dinged a poor guy at a stop sign. Next came the body….a few weeks ago I got the shingles (Take normal pain, and multiply it by the kind of numbers astronomers use….there you have it.) And the recall business with the mammogram. And now it’s the house.
Sometimes the universe attacks from all sides at once.
I reached down to touch the odd-looking place at the foot of the sliding glass door in our bedroom. The painted surface crumbled under my fingers. Even as a serious amateur in the house construction biz I know that is bad bad bad.
I’m thinking dry rot.
Turns out I am right, but not completely right. We have a bonus of….termites! We live in a termite-prone area. Common wisdom, at least according to termite fixers around here, is that you need to have your house tented every seven years. It’s been ten years for us.
The scramble is on to get ready for “tenting”. The chaos is a cross between turning your house inside out and moving. Plants far away from the house, Food into huge plastic bags that they PROMISE will keep the poison out. Medicines into the bags, toothpaste, anything that goes into your mouth. Even food in the freezer and refrigerator. Turn off the ice maker.
And of course Christmas is next week and I’m trying remember everything…..gifts go into the car NOT into the big plastic bags. Dog food also goes into the plastic bags. ATM machine. Sweaters into my suitcase. Dogs in the car. Cards into the mail. Incoming mail into the suitcase. Suitcase in car, not in plastic bags. Breakfast? Everything is in bags, so I run down to Noah’s.
Giant plastic bags are all over the house, like the house is a homeless person.
And tomorrow the house itself goes into the big plastic bag.