So many strange men in my house

Jesus.  Today.

 

Yesterday afternoon the gas guy came back out to inspect the repairs that the landlord’s maintenance guy had done, and he said the lines were still failing hardcore.  So he had to turn the gas back off.

 

I called the maintenance guy, who called the landlord, who was incommunicado until this morning (of course).  Once he had permission from his boss to make this place habitable, Maintenance Guy and his partner showed up at the house at 8:07 this morning (just when we were rolling out of bed, of course).  They banged some more pipes and pronounced everything fixed a couple hours later.  So I called the gas company, and they sent a guy out (not the one who looked like JK Simmons from the other day, alas.  We were buds.) and he said there was still a problem and so he couldn’t reconnect our service.  OF COURSE.  So I got Maintenance Guy on the phone, and he and Gas Guy had an argument about calibrations on their respective sensors and what lines need to be connected and how many cuts to make in a pipe replacement, and then Gas Guy left.  Then Maintenance Guy came back (at which point I thought about asking him to install a revolving door on the basement stairs because JFC), and he banged some more pipes and turned off some valves (fun fact! This hundred-year-old home was originally routed for gas lighting.  But somehow, between the advent of home electric lighting and September 20, 2013, none of the home’s various owners or tenants had thought to remove or adequately plug any of the defunct gas lighting pipework.  Just in case this whole “electricity” fad doesn’t catch on, I guess?  Also, for the record, I am not a plumber, but this was my idea.  I think I see a second career in my future.).

 

Then Maintenance Guy called Plumber Buddy (why Plumber Buddy wasn’t called in the first place I don’t know), who told Maintenance Guy some other ways to fix the various gas leaks running throughout the basement.  Maintenance Guy banged some more pipes, then pronounced it Done-I-Really-Mean-It-This-Time, and told me to call the gas company back.

 

So I called the gas company back, and Gas Guy returned, rolling his eyes and telling me that Maintenance Guy is an idiot because of his well-established stance on calibration methods.  I DON’T CARE, GAS GUY.  Fortune finally smiled upon us, though, because this time the plumbing passed inspection!  Gas has been restored to the house.  Which means that at this moment I am simultaneously boiling a kettle for iced tea, soaking a load of diapers, and contemplating a blissful, long hot shower.

 

(There was a 10-minute pause here because Simon heard me type the word “shower”.  Dammit!)

 

So in between all the people working on the house and the baby all up in my business and the dog who pooped on the bathroom floor (because apparently that’s what you do when you get weary of barking incessantly), I worked on unpacking.

 

We are so very nearly there!  Just 5 boxes left for the main rooms of the house (not counting the still-unfurnished craft room/office).  Unfortunately, as anyone who has moved can sympathize, it’s those last boxes that are always the hardest.  They’re the ones that you’ve previously opened up and thought “where the heck am I gonna put *that*?!”, then set aside for an amorphous ‘later’.  Well, later has arrived, and I still have no idea where to put Jeff’s LEGO replica of the White House, our ice cream dishes, or my cute little quilted seasonal wall hangings Aunt Judy made.

 

Which is interesting, since I did manage to easily fit it all into a 2-bedroom apartment the size of this house’s first floor, but somehow now that I have a second floor and an attic and a basement I’m mystified.

 

(That said, it’s really not at all an issue of space.  We have way more space than we know what to do with.  Hence Simon having a bedroom *and* a playroom, a superfluous dining room we’ve designated as “the library”, and china displayed on the kitchen cabinets’ upper stories.)

 

Have I mentioned that I love this house?  Almost daily I tell Jeff that I wish we could buy it and take on its problems and charms whole-hog, a huge task that I’d love nothing more than to take on.  We’ve always said we like old houses and established neighborhoods, but after this adventure I really don’t see us being satisfied with anything less than a hundred years old.  I love this house so much.  SO MUCH.

 

Tonight we’re going to pick Jeff up from work and check out Akron’s Greek festival.  Mama needs baklava!

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4 responses to “So many strange men in my house

  1. you are a saint for putting up with all that—and you CAN’T back down with something so serious!! glad you’re finally getting settled in.

  2. YAY!

  3. I think it must be time for that cool drink and a sit on the porch with a good book and your feet up ! Enjoy 🙂
    Gas leaks are not something to mess with, glad it is all fixed.
    Here in Australia, no one is allowed to touch gas pipes unless they are a fully qualified gas plumber, not just an ordinary plumber, very surprised that some idiot handyman was allowed do the work.
    Does your gas have a smell ? can you pick up a leak that way?
    Here the gas supply add an odour, so you can tell right away if there is a leak.
    Simon will be so happy with his play area and a yard to run about in with his pets, he is just at the age where they love to be outside all the time.

  4. Maybe the maintenance guy and the gas guy have a football rivalry going back to their high school days, and they’re letting it interfere with YOUR GAS.

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