Owning a house sometimes isn't all it's cracked up to be. Those of you who've been around Chez Knitting Doctor for awhile might remember the Great Circus Tent escapade from several years back, where we basically had to remodel one whole side of the house.The saga starts here, if you are interested in revisiting it. It makes me too queasy, but it might discourage you from buying a Halloween Fun House if you look through the whole thing.
A couple of weeks ago John noticed water dripping from the ceiling in our lower level. That is never a good thing. Plumber came out, tore some holes in the ceiling and walls in a few places, and found the culprit. the water line to our kitchen refrigerator ice maker had been chewed through and was leaking. And there was a rat's nest behind the refrigerator.
So the water line got replaced, but there is significant water damage especially to our wood floor in the kitchen.
We had a restoration guy out, who tore some more stuff out, including the wood floor under the refrigerator. We have fans and dehumidifiers going both in the kitchen and downstairs. The fucking noise is about to drive me insane, which is not a long drive this particular winter.
The wall guys came yesterday, once the mess is dried out, the dry wall will be replaced, and they will paint, of course they'll have to paint both whole walls in the living room where it got torn up. The floor guys come next week. The real fun is that we have continuous wood floors in the whole main level, so the WHOLE thing will need to be sanded, stained and then sealed. Meaning that at some point all the furniture will be in a pod in the driveway, the pets will be kenneled, and we'll be moved out of here.
The good news, Part One, is that our insurance covers this. We have USAA, the adjuster has already been out. It will cover ALL of it, including the kennel, our moving expenses, and even the cost of the electricity to run the blowers for the past week or however damned long it takes.
Good news Part Two? I caught the damned rat. I came downstairs to make coffee last Saturday and heard a rustle under the kitchen counter. He was in the garbage. I slammed the door, yelled for John, then grabbed a cookie sheet pan and slapped it over the trash can to trap him. I really didn't have the will to bash him over the head, and John didn't offer, so he was carried to an uninhabited section of our neighborhood and released.
We haven't seen any further rat evidence, so I think he was a loner. I suspect one of our worthless cats might have brought him in to play with and then let him go without finishing the job. They are on notice.