Some years ago, we talked, vaguely talked, about having our floors replaced. (I didn't say it was exciting!) The carpet was sent by Martha Washington, with the original kitchen, when she moved into the White House. "Drop it somewhere in that place called Tejas!" Her orders were adhered to, and around the said items, they built my condo! About six weeks ago, we decided to take the proverbial bull by the horns, and get a quote! To make a very, very long story as short as possible, on a Sunday morning, a very nice man came, showed us some options, measured up, gave us a price, assured us that the large items would not cause a problem, took a deposit, gave us a date, and left! The 'manager' called on the Tuesday to say that although we had arranged for the work to start in two weeks, they could start the following day! My husband seemed quite thrilled with the idea. Me, not so much! "Remove all your fragile stuff, things from cabinets, anything breakable. Yes, the lamps would be good to be taken out." It was the warning, "It is going to be like a construction site", that prompted me to move anything and everything removable. I would not have time to get everything upstairs in an evening. We left the dates as they were, and double, and triple checked that they would be able to move the heavy items.
In between household chores, and work, I managed to take all my 'breakables', pictures, pantry contents (that is part of the floor) and general bric-a-brac, upstairs and out of harm's way. I set up a table in Samantha's room, next to the bunk beds, after storing some glasses on the chest of draws. Upstairs was an obstacle course, but we weaved our way through. The night before the work was due to start, I took the remaining few things upstairs, and hoped I hadn't forgotten anything.
Of course, when the two men arrived to take a look at the area, they stood over the pool table and shook their heads. "Can't move this", the foreman said. "Yes you can". said I. We went back and forth for a while, and I remembered my ex-husband's party piece mimicking an English plumber. Sharp intake of breath, shaking of the head, and a very long, "Nawwwww" emitting from his lips. After calling their manager, they reluctantly agreed to go ahead. "Sign here", said the foreman. "What am I signing for?" said I. He told me I was just agreeing to the work. On insisting I would like to actually read what I was signing for, he became quite offended, and flipped back a page on his iPad, before quickly flipping forward for me to sign. I flipped it back, which basically set the tone for the next hour. I was a trouble maker! My son-in-law came to sit in the house while I went off to work. They were due to lift the tiles in the kitchen and replace any boards in the living room that needed to be replaced. An hour had not yet passed when I received a call. They had 'downed tools'. I came home to find the foreman walking too and fro. "Asbestos!" he called out. "No, it is not!" said I. All the units had been tested besides the fact the floor was laid after the ban. (The carpets were a different matter.) "It is dangerous!" he retorted. "I know! I completed two, not one but two lots of asbestos training", said I, leaving out the fact it was about thirty five years ago, but some things remain clear as day! Enter Raul, who spoke the foreman's native language. "What is wrong with you? You know it is not Asbestos. Don't you want to work?" I stood and pretended I understood every word he said, and the foreman became rather sheepish. His workmen, however, had been spooked. We overcame the problem by them putting down a layer of cement in the 'affected' areas, and they would put the floors over that when it was dry. This led to another problem. My dining and kitchen area, and my front porch/hallway, would be slightly raised. It would be okay!
The 'electrics' for my unit were what gave Nicola Tesla his first thought when he was a toddler. Yes, they are that old, and have really needed replacing for a very long time! I could not use my microwave and kettle at the same time, due to the excess surge it put on the power. When the units were built, no one had an inkling of how much electricity would be used in the future, nor the strength of machine, or power needed. "The electrics have blown", said my son-in-law, who had predicted a nice peaceful day, allowing him to get some things done. "All you have to do is be there" I told him. My husband came home, called an electrician, and within the hour they were at the house. "They banned this stuff in 1980!" my husband repeated to me. "They are city approved, and will come and change out all the sockets and light switches on Monday. Then they will fit a new fuse box." Of course, the expense would be down to us. We had, vaguely, talked about having the wiring replaced over the years, but we could live with using the microwave and kettle at different times! Monday! They would come back first thing Monday! No problem! Only there was a problem. I now had to wait for the floor people to finish, so I could bring everything back downstairs, as there was no clear path to the sockets or light switches. Remember the table I put up in Samantha's room? I took my husband into the room. He looked at all the objects on, and under the table. "How do you get to the chest of drawers?" I posed. "You can't" he said. "Well, that is where the socket is!" I replied. "Also, there is one behind the bunk beds". The electricians would have to make two journeys!
Arriving home on the Friday was bitter sweet. The floors looked magnificent, but I could not restore my living room 'bit by bit'. However, the raised areas in the dining and kitchen area, and small hallway had created a wonderful feature! I now had a sunken living room! Admittedly, we were only talking an inch, perhaps less, but it is a step down and that was enough for me! My excitement was genuine.
My weekend was spent cleaning floors, moving furniture and getting the sockets accessible. On Monday morning, my usual household chores were set aside, as it was impossible to do them properly, and I set about removing things from the second bedroom. By the time the electricians came, I was ready for a battle! If I had one 'sharp intake of breath', or a single shake of the head, I was ready with fists up! I showed them the bunk beds, which I had manage to move out a tad, and the other sockets which were almost accessible. "No problem, ma'am" said the main man. I retired without a punch being thrown! Metaphorical punch, of course!I forgot to mention the other 'fun' aspect. Bad things happen in threes my mother always said. Superstitious as she was, I am not, but it just happened that way. When the electrics were blown out, my air conditioner went on the 'fritz'. "That's odd" said the technician, for the fourth time. "Please, stop saying that!" said I. He could not work out the dynamics. It would appear that the people who fitted the unit hooked it up to the old drain system, which in itself is not a problem, but it would have been better to got 'right' instead of left. He got it going, and then said, "That's odd...sorry!" It appears, the reason my thermostat had thrown everything out of whack over the last decade, is because someone had wired it wrong! I can't even blame Martha W. for this one! If ever we had a power cut, it would take some careful pandering to get it to work properly, and because it appeared to be working if ever we had a technician out to 'service' or check it out, it had seemed to be working. He put on a new thermostat, and within twenty minutes, not hours, the temperature was down to the required setting!
At last! Everything was fixed. Everything apart from the cars! Did I mention? No I didn't! Both cars had a/c problems! They are both fixed! Dana took his to our usual mechanic. I had to take mine to a 'specialist'. We found a very nice family owned business that took care of my 'old lady'. I was told what was wrong and how it was to be fixed. Go on.... ask me anything, anything about how air conditioning works in a car. Anything! I could not perform the actual task, but I could instruct the mechanic!
The holiday weekend was spent putting things back. The rest of the week was spent putting things back. This weekend was spent putting things back. Admittedly, I have not been as judicious as I might, and have taken some 'me' time. The obstacle course is less daunting, and the pantry has been put back together, of a fashion! Most of the things not 'put back' are items I am considering throwing/donating/destroying!
In essence, that is why I have not finished this post, until now. Did I mention the storm? No I didn't. A real storm, not simply the one in a tea cup that we endured over the last few weeks. That will have to be in ...... another story!
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