Sunday, August 14

So much news and so little writing! Today was my son’s birthday and I didn’t even send a card. (Email, yes!) Wednesday night a teeny part broke in the hot water connection to the sink in the upstairs bath. Gushing hot water flooded the bathroom, went through the ceiling to the kitchen below and then fell to the basement. It all happened in short order–we were home and became aware of something happening only a few minutes after it began.

Our insurance company, a mitigation company and a construction company got right on it and we were then flooded for the next three days with people asking questions and doing things too fast for me. I was kept was busy cleaning up construction debris, saving the LR rug from destruction, removing items in the area, rescuing things we needed (purse, jacket from closet now cordoned off), food and vitamins etc. from K etc. We’re  showering downstairs; the upstairs bath is filled with fans and reached 90 degrees, at times the power keeps going off because of equipment running. (Computer crashes if it’s on.)

Now the hardwood kitchen floor has been largely stripped to the subflooring and the kitchen ceiling explored.  (Very interesting construction: Wall board, acoustic board, sawdust insulation, then lath and plaster. Four separate layers. The sawdust soaked up the water like crazy. Looks like the 1970’s remodeling just slapped the wall board on over the old stuff.)

We’re waiting for an asbestos report, having passed a lead paint finding (how??!). The engineered hardwood flooring in the upstairs bath which we had installed a few years ago is all removed now, down to the ancient linoleum. There is talk about sanding down and refinishing all of the downstairs flooring (K and DR) so patching will match. We may move to a hotel. Too much to keep up with. . . . .

Today we breathed, ate, and slept. It’s nice! Tomorrow it begins again.


About Carol Foreman Brockfield

Poet in Medford, Oregon
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2 Responses to Sunday, August 14

  1. D Chadwell says:

    Ah Carol, the joys of home ownership. What drama. I’m so glad you were there when it started. Oh my goodness things could really have been awful if you hadn’t been right on it. As for writing poetry — don’t think I’ve ever seen a plumbing poem. You could start a whole new genre.

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