Saturday morning. Mr. Hodge and his assistant, Mike, show up to fix the leak. They tell me the water meter is spinning out of control. Mike Shaw has this stick almost as tall as he is. What is that for? The house has a brick foundation; however, all of the pipes run under the house. Access is through these teeny-tiny openings, less than 3-feet-wide and 2-feet high. They're called "scuttle holes," missy. And the stick is for any creatures that might be in residence. Well, good grief, the man drops to his knees and is under the house in the blink of an eye. Gone. Period.
Mr. Hodge (call me Jack) explains that Mike is looking for the leak; that he used to go under the houses but since his back surgery, can't do it anymore. Mike is having problems finding the leak which is not allowing for water to travel to the front of the house; i.e., front bath and kitchen. He comes out dirty as a mud dauber, this thing that looks like a wasp and builds mud "houses" everywhere, and tells us that there is a 6-in. brick wall built around the area where they suspect the leak might be. No way to access it. Good grief! What does this mean? No water, dummy. At least not until I can contact the man Mr. Jack is referring me to. He tells me to tell Karl to call him after I talk to him and he'll explain the problem. Tells me that Karl is an excellent plumber, honest, and if anyone can fix it, Karl can. They leave.
Major depression sets in. What on earth will happen next? My funds are not that long. Will they all be used in plumbing? I still need to figure out how to replace the roof. Still no coffee pot or microwave. Did locate the fan, though.
Call around to Criner's. Appliances on the way. Can we use the driveway next door? Here we go again. I trot across to see if she will permit it. Yes, I have a driveway at the rear but the doors at the back are not as easy to maneuver with large items as it is with the double front doors. Well, why don't they park in the back and wheel it around? Too much work. Even I can agree with that. No answer from the neighbor. I know she's there 'cause I saw her earlier.
Guess I don't have the magic touch. They've gone over and gotten her permission. Started bringing in the appliances. Just drop the w/d and dishwasher in the foyer. Put the stove and refrigerator in the kitchen. Self: Ask them to take away the six-foot counter, toilets, refrigerator, etc. They were only too happy with the tip for doing it. Overpaid for two reasons: didn't have any small bills and didn't know what was appropriate. Regardless, it was worth it to get them gone. Everyone says "oh, put it at the end of the driveway; the city will move it." Right. I have to get it to the end of the driveway. Not happening. Was only too glad to pay.
Mr. Bob appears but can't finish the counter. I should have called to let him know about the water but forgot in the midst of the hustle and bustle. We sit and chat. He's good at that. I keep dropping hints that I have to locate the coffee machine and microwave. Dropping on deaf ears. After a few more hints, it's apparent that I have to be a little more forceful. Trying not to be insulting. I need this man's services and his chats have been informative. He finally leaves.
Check on my brother's location; he's driving from PA. Worried that the drive is too much, too soon. He had a bone replaced in his neck in April. Didn't know they did that until it happened. He's around Cincinnati. Taking a different route than I did. His will bring him through Ohio, Kentucky, and into Tenn. Are we learning geography?
Run errands, take a much-deserved nap. Needed to escape the pressure of worrying about the water leak. Trying to clean that filthy bathroom. Not much progress. Check with the brother again. Worrying him to death with my worrying. I've turned into my mother. Text message on the cell. He's run into a serious storm and laying over for the night. Good.
Can't do anything else. Still working off of clamp lights. Turned in. Maybe I can get the bathroom finished in the morning.