So Mrs R says to me, a couple months ago now, “Can we paint the downstairs bathroom and put in new flooring?”
Sure, how much trouble could it be?
Biut the bathroom is below grade, and, despite the improvements Dad and I made to drainage along that side of the house when we first bought it, there was efflorescence on the concrete blocks that make up the outside wall.
So we entered a month-long very expensive regime of sealants, glue removers, etchants, epoxy crack fillers, and more sealers. Finally we’d gotten the room painted and new flooring in place.
During this time, as an additional aggravant, I was subjected to a steady rain of minor home repairs. I went to use the kitchen sink sprayer; the diverter valve failed. I went to turn on the heat in the basement; the zone valve motor failed. The refrigerator failed, too, and we had to have a repairman out to fix it, which took two days because Parts.
And then I came downstairs one morning, and there was my shower water, spread out all over the basement floor. A call to a drain rooter company; they asked about our septic tank, saying they won’t come out until we’ve pumped the septic tank, because 90% of the time it’s a full-up septic tank.
But where was my septic tank? I thought I remembered, but after some futile digging, during which I realized that I’m not as young as I used to be, I ended up hiring a guy with an excavator, who found the tank in short order, about eight feet from where I thought it was. And then we hired an outfit to come pump it, and our drain was still clogged. The rooter company came out and poked around, and all was well.
Mrs R, apparently eager to pile ordeal upon ordeal, and not satisfied with redoing the bathroom, decided she was sick of blackberries, and we should hire the excavator guy to clear away the vines which covered half our property. So I arranged for that, and $3K later our property looks like a moonscape, but at least the blackberries are temporarily defeated. Although now we’ll probably need to have it mowed every year–but the excavator guy says it wouldn’t be anywhere near as much, because all the hard work is done.
And then the drain clogged again. The rooter company came out again, and their camera guy found rocks in our drain pipe. He said the pipe is broken, and they gave us an estimate to jackhammer through our basement floor, fix the pipe, and patch the floor again. The estimate was insanely high, so I arranged for three other outfits to come out and take a look at it. (Which was a strain, since 1. Talking to people tires me, and 2. Mrs R has an annoying habit of asking afterwards, “Did you ask them about such-and-such?”, which of course I never do). One of them responded with an estimate that’s about a third of the first estimate, so I’ve sent off an acceptance to them, and we’ll hope they respond; I get the idea that our job is not a very desirable one.
But of course, the leak is directly underneath the Games Closet, which had to be emptied and the shelving removed (Dad built the shelves before he installed the door, so I had to saw off the top foot of the shelving units to get them out), and might extend into the Hobby Room, which has the accumulated clutter of half a lifetime building models; so I had to empty part of the Hobby Room and rearrange shelves to provide access. And the peel-and-stick tile flooring in the basement probably contains asbestos, so I had to gently detach the tiles from the concrete using a wide putty knife and dispose of them.
And the plumber says that he’ll probably have to demolish the back wall of the Games Closet, so that’s another thing I’ll have to fix, once the drain is fixed, provided this outfit comes through. I’ll have to borrow Littlest R’s fiance’s pickup truck to get a sheet of drywall home from the hardware store.
It ain’t the money; it’s the steady drip, drip, drip, of hassle after hassle. 