Money pit?

When we bought this house 6 years ago, we were surprised when the owners told us the lock on the back door "never worked right."

We accepted it. Fixed it about a year later (after finding said door standing WIDE open after a long day at work/school).

We found monsters sized cracks in the laundry room, our bedroom, and bathroom approximately a year after we moved in. Not a big deal, all houses settle. 

Should probably have wondered about the electricity when Ironman was out of town & I got "locked in" the garage. The van was in the garage, with about 8" clearance between the top of the van & the garage ceiling. Every time I pressed the button to open the garage door, the electricity shorted, blew a breaker, and we lost power to open the door. The emergency release was above the van. I couldn't get around the front or back of the van at all, so couldn't pull the release, so was essentially home bound until either the fault fixed itself (likely? Right...) or Ironman returned from his weeklong trip. 

Fond out it was due to a short in an EXTENSION CORD run outside to power some lights in the deck. Rated indoor only. Short was caused by melting snow. 

Two years ago we started pulling down the deck due to overly high pergola height. It was so high we never were able to get any sun protection. And the center post? Supporting the entire weight of the structure? Unanchored. Resting on the floor of the deck. Not even toenailed. And we had a porch swing hanging from this. Should we mention the two "outdoor rated" electrical ceiling fans we pulled down? Rusted through the housings. Hanging in open air (no roof over them). Yep, some high quality engineering went into the hanging of these.  

So today, Ironman decided to pull down the rails on the deck. Big old sledge, some frustration, and voila! The rails are down. 

Unfortunately...when he removed one of the rails, the top of a support post came off, revealing it had previously been repaired. He checked a little further and found that almost all of the posts are wet. Or at least damp. That's ok, it's been a pretty wet spring, and its on the north side of the house. Right? Or maybe, if you dig a little around the post, he finds the post is BURIED in the ground, not anchored in cement, and others are likely the same. 

Sigh. 

Updates to follow. 

On the upside? We got the raised bed garden done in about two hours on Saturday!

 

Hi darlin, there's nothing wrong, but I need to know...

where do we keep the vacuum cleaner?

How did I know not to believe him?

The day started out cold and snowy.  I was lucky that Ironman was at home with the girls.  Twins being hyperactive at home on a snowy day is one thing.  Twins being hyperactive at home with Daddy is a totally different animal.

So Ironman calls me at work and asks me where we keep the vacuum cleaner.  Yes, everyone, I did roll my eyes.  He couldn't see me!

me:  It's in the hall closet.

Sapper:  Which one?

me:  Not the front hall closet, not the glass pantry, the back hall closet.  By the garage door.  Across from the laundry room.  (And no, our house isn't that big, we just have a plethora of doors in the hallway on the first floor.  Eight doorways, but only five doors.  And one of those doors is to the bathroom.  Anyway, I digress.)

Ironman:  OK, thanks.

me:  Wait, why do you need the vacuum cleaner?

Ironman:  No reason, thanks!  ::click::

Hmmm, made me wonder.

You really want to know what happened, don't you?

Well, first of all, I should start out by saying that the reason Ironman stayed home was to work on our non-functioning toilet.  It seems that minutes before we were to leave for a Superbowl Party, I got up from the potty to see that there was water on the floor in front of the base.  Yes, I can be a little rushed in my pre-party prepping, but I didn't miss the toilet completely I promise!  I reached back behind the commode and turned off the valve and called to Ironman about the issue.  He checked to see that I had done the right thing (I had) and said to ignore it 'til we got home.

So we did.

Several days later, thanks to my ultra-savvy husband, we suspected that the flange was being held down by only ONE BOLT.  And that the flange had absolutely ZERO connection with any studs under the toilet.

Yep, yet another mystery found under our house.

Fast forward to the snowy day at hand.  Ironman stayed home and made eggs for the Chicklets for their breakfast.  Apparently he thought Dixie-the-wonder-pup (DTWP), would enjoy licking out the eggshells.  She did!  And then she crushed them in her jaws leaving eggshells all over the floor.  So he attempted to vacuum up the shards of shell using the handheld vacuum (which was of course clogged with debris) and the shards scattered throughout the dining area of our not-so-large home!

No reason to panic, just call to find out where we keep the vacuum before wifey-pooh gets home, right?

Yeah.  That worked.  We've lived in this house three years, but he doesn't know where we keep the vacuum cleaner...

Anyway, after he finished that interesting little project, he donned his 'going to work under the house' gear and smashed himself down into the crawlspace, together with a twin and DTWP.  He found that he was correct in his assessment of the plumbing problem.  The flange is attached by only one bolt, and there are no studs located near the commode.  Huh.  The toilet never should have been installed where it was installed.  ::insert eyeroll::  Thank you oh-so-excellent-builders!

As he was coming back up out of the crawlspace, he realized he had the opportunity to get the flashlight he left under the house about six months previous.  Wahoo - another valid reason to be under the house!  He returned to the scene of that plumbing experience, found his errant flashlight, and started to come back up to daylight.  At this point, he realized he didn't have DTWP.  He called to her, but she didn't come back from hunting critters.  He called again and heard nothing.  He had Yell call to her and Yell got a whimper.

Hmmm.

He sent Yell in the direction of DTWP's voice and she was found.  Over the sill of our house, down in a cistern!  Yell got her hands behind the dog's front legs, gave a little heave, and DTWP bounded up, over Yell's back on her way to freedom.  Hooray for the scrawny twin!  Bet you think the story ends here.

Nope.

At this point in the day this is what I know personally:  Ironman has been at home with the girls.  He's asked the whereabouts of the vacuum cleaner.  But that's all the information I have.  It gets better.  I came home to find a relatively cleared driveway.

Doesn't it look nice?  Snow had been pushed out of the way, nice soft white, fluffy snow...

Yep, Sapper did a great...job...with the basketball net?

Huh.  Looks like the snowblower and the basketball net had a little fight.

And apparently...the snowblower won.

weird -- and completely freaking SCARY start to the day

It was 6am and I was in the living room, looking for my cell phone. Crab had just gone out to the garage to get something for me. Yell was already in the car. I heard this explosion that reverberated -- like thunder almost -- but really sounded like something crashing down twice - or like the noise a little boy makes when he's pretending to explode tanks & army men. I ran to the garage to see what had happened. Thinking the garage door had fallen down, the hanging racks had fallen, picturing the girls standing there in a cloud of dusty drywall. I opened the door & nothing seemed wrong. I asked, "Are you okay? What happened?" Both girls looked at me with blank looks and responded, "What, Mommy?" I said, "Is everything okay? Didn't you hear that noise?" "What noise?" "Oh my God, the ceiling fan must have fallen down in your room!" I had heard the girls' ceiling fan squeaking like crazy before I went downstairs this a.m. & had 'adjusted' it so it quit squeaking. I remember thinking it odd as it hadn't been squeaking 30 minutes earlier. My heart was pounding, I could hear popping & squeaking upstairs as I got to the foot of the stairs. Yelly was close behind me. She tried to go upstairs in front of me, but I said, "Get the phone. Call 911 if I call to you." All the time I was wishing Ironman was home -- how on earth would I handle someone having broken into our house? What did they want? Why did they crash through the walls of our house? While trying to calm my nerves, I heard the squeaking of the girls ceiling fan. How on earth did the motor keep going if the blade & unit had fallen down? Did it shred the girls' bedding? What would their room look like? Had plaster fallen? What the... Random thoughts were flying through my head while I was ascending the eleven steps to our upstairs. I could hear the squeaking...and a weird popping sound. But the popping was ahead to my left. The squeaking was ahead to my right. I glanced in the girls' bedroom and it was as messy as usual - with the ceiling fan intact. I turned around, where the popping was really a LOT louder, thinking "Oh my gosh, someone is in the bathroom..." and saw glass. All over the floor. "OH MY GOSH!" Yelly was up the stairs like a shot. I turned on the light and surveyed her bathroom. The shower door had shattered. The girls hadn't used the shower since Wednesday night. It's Tuesday morning. What?!? I checked to make sure no one was in the shower - and left the glass literally popping in the air like popcorn kernels on the bathroom & shower floors. I wanted to make a video because the glass was popping around all over. It was truly weird. I'll clean it up after I take pictures later. So...no prowler, no injuries, just a random shattered shower door. Why do these oddities occur only when Ironman is gone?! Just to reassure you all, I originally wrote this way back on June 23, 2009.  No, we still haven't replaced the shower door (but we did put up a shower curtain so the girls can use the shower).  And yes, I can still remember that exploding crashing sound like it was yesterday.  Freaky freaky stuff...

Guest Post: How not to tow an RV

Sent via BlackBerry

June 10 was my dad's birthday.  It's fairly common knowledge that he enjoys 'tinkering' with machinery, tools, wood, cars, etc.  It's also fairly common knowledge that he will invariably 'find' a project when left to his own devices.  Below is his tale of yet another 'project' that fell into his lap.  Thanks for sharing, Pop!  

---

From: Dick Harrold 

Date: Thu, 10 Jun 2010 15:07:46 -0400

To: Kids5

Subject: How not to tow an RV

Guys -

Uncle B___ and Aunt M___ arrived last night in their petite four door diesel duely (from Suz: sp? dually? duelly? dual-ie? dual-y? help people!) 350 Ford truck pulling a block long fifth-wheel RV! Of course the first order of business was to get the "rig" backed into our driveway and next to the shop during 5 o'clock traffic.  We had traffic backed up for a quarter mile in each direction while Benny fought the truck's steering wheel, I gave directions standing out in the middle of the street, Mary ran from side to side to see what he would hit next and mom worried about the grass and flowers.  

To say that it looked a lot like a three ring circus gone bad is an understatement.  I finally took the wheel of the truck and managed to get it all stuffed into the drive and spotted next to the shop.  You ever drive one of those things?  Interesting.  Especially with a massive semi trailer on the back.  And it backs differently than that of a normal trailer on the rear of a pickup.  

Anyway, we finally ate supper and settled in front of the TV to drift off now and then while attempting to get caught up on the family news.  The three dogs collapsed after a couple hours of playing and found soft spots to nestle down in.  

We all felt much better this morning after a good night's sleep.  Breakfast was one of mom's best and filled us to the brim.  

For the past two weeks we have been expecting some guys to arrive and seal coat our driveway.  You guessed it.  They arrived today!  

The first order of business was to get any vehicles we might want to drive in the next two days parked on the grass out front and off the driveway.  Since Uncle B____'s truck was on the drive, we'd have to disconnect it from the fifth-wheel RV and move it to safer ground.  

I watched as B___ prepared the rig to be supported by the two on-board jacks -- allowing the tow vehicle to be removed and parked elsewhere.  He disconnected the heavy electric cord that goes between the two vehicles that operates the running lights, brakes, etc.  

Next he got in the truck and eased it forward and out from under the RV.  Everything went well.  Once the truck was clear, he accelerated slightly.  The electric cord stretched out, flipped around and hung up on the rear bumper of the truck.  Despite the electric cord being maybe an inch in diameter, it wasn't up to pulling the RV!  The stress on it pulled off the plug and ripped the cord out of the camper!  Needless to say, the RV didn't move one inch.  

We spent the next two hours making repairs.  

So, how did you spend your last birthday?

I bought my first car, a Model T Ford Coupe, 57 years ago.  We've owned a Tudor for 49 years.  

Dick H

N, IN USA

Grace - it's my name - don't wear it out!

Wow.  So yesterday Sapper tasked me with going to various home improvement stores to buy this stuff.  It seems he'd like to actually park a *car* in the garage.  Go figure -- we buy a house with a 3-car garage & he decides he'd like to put more than one car in the garage.  What a weirdo!

I should probably mention, too, that the task was assigned during an event some women wouldn't want to watch the Colts game.  There was a bit of growling involved in my being physically maneuvered out the door of the house.  Anyway, I get to one store and find that they have some of the stuff we need/want, but not all.  So Yell & I headed to another store to find some more of the stuff we want/need, but again, not all.  ::sigh::

Fast forward to the return home.  Sapper is pleased, but not thrilled, with the items purchased.  Like this - and this - and this - but this item wasn't available at either store (and we wanted not one, but two of them).  And of course the 'specialty' items like the weapon baseball bat holder, the golf club rack, and the mobile obstacle course container vertical ball rack all have to be special-ordered.  Aren't we lucky!

Blah blah blah, I get to stuff a bowl of chili down my throat prior to assisting Sapper with his installation project.  Yay.  I'm just glad I had the foresight to throw the stuff in the crock pot before heading out the door to church (7 hours previously).  Bent on showing Sapper that I indeed deserved the tool set he'd given me for Christmas (by the way, honey, where is my #3 Phillips screwdriver?), I climbed the step ladder to help nail the pilot holes for all of the FastTrack Rails.  Labor intensive, I'm not kidding, I bought a box of 50 stud-screw-thingies to help anchor the rails into the wall and we ran out after only 2 rails.

I promise you, I do not have a fear of tools.  I was managing on my own.  Managed to smash my fingers only once with the hammer possessing the ridiculously too-long handle handed me by Sapper.  I mean, I learned how to use a SawZall when we assembled the girls' playhouse (perched 5 feet up on what used to be a pool deck), how hard could it be to hammer pilot holes?

We got done with the pilot holes, and Sapper stuck the rail up against the wall and we began to 'start' the screws in the drywall locks.  Thus begins the end of our story.

I had to stand on the 2nd step from the top so I could reach over the top of the ladder.  When I ran out of area that I could comfortably reach (without leaning so far over on the ladder I'd topple), I began to step down so I could move the ladder.  And boy, did I!

Took one step down with my left foot, completely missed the step, sprawled in mid-air, reaching desperately for the following step with my left foot while the right is still planted on the 2nd step from the top, all the while desperately holding a Phillips screwdriver in my right hand along with the edge of the ladder, and multiple screws in my left hand, doing amazing splits I haven't attempted since cheerleading tryouts in high school....

and down I tumbled.  To the floor.  Arms flailing.  Screws flying.  Ladder tumbling over, nearly onto me & Sapper.  My arms hitting a ladder on the right, and an immobile object on the left.  And oh my word, my back and tailbone hitting concrete below.

And that, ladies & gentlemen, is the reason that today I am hardly able to move my arms, neck, back, and hips.  Not too bad for a SAHM turned WOHM/taxi driver, huh?

Tomorrow, adventures in baby-catching (a memory)!