It seems my home has contracted GOTOLD-40.
During the past month, I have been assaulted by relentless repair needs. It might be because I have largely ignored these things for three decades. But I think it’s just my house being hateful, as we have been using it so much these past three months.
I thought it an ungrateful wretch, because I have spent a fair bit of time during quarantine pulling weeds, putting down bark, trimming bushes and whatnot.
But maybe the house is jealous that the yard is getting all the attention. That would certainly explain last week’s front-yard sabotage. This was followed with water damage from the pipe-leak geyser, a leak under a bathroom sink, a broken bathroom light fixture, broken screens and the cold realization that we absolutely must get a new roof.
Discussing all this makes me more than a little queasy. Yes, we will probably recoup the costs once we sell the place, but that won’t ease the dent in my wallet right now.
So, instead of lounging around reading a good book, my free time has been filled with endless trips to the home repair store and chatting up plumbers and roofers. I’m doing that in between praying that we get no rain anytime soon.
I was terribly proud of myself for finding and replacing the bathroom light fixture. But the new one is so bright, it’s like stepping onstage when you turn it on. This is not the feeling I want as I get into the shower.
My well-meaning spouse has risked life and limb to take every tile off our roof and replace the underlining, not once, but twice in the past 30 years. Despite his noble and Herculean efforts, we have leaks. It is time to cough up the cash and call in the pros.
Said husband is not happy with me, but I want my house to be sound and pretty now, while I can enjoy it.
And hey, the yard is looking spectacular.
Jean Gillette is a freelance writer who has fantasies of renting. Contact her at [email protected].