Furry Friend

The last thing Mike said after he came by to measure the area that needed a new carpet pad was, "We'll probably talk a couple more times." He should have added, "when you call me" since I haven't heard from him in a week. But I guess it doesn't really matter, since we're paying for it ourselves. So lets leave off this Mysterious Puddle Mess.

Meanwhile, I am still trying to make headway on our New Year's Resolution: A list of things to fix around the house entitled Works Great in 2008. Every week this list gets longer, but I naively think it's still conceivably possible to finish it. This week I FINALLY replaced the light bulbs on our exterior spotlights. It's hard to believe that replacing light bulbs could be a new year's resolution, but if it requires a ladder and a screwdriver, then yes, it qualifies as a real project.

Plus, we've been hosting a certain unwelcome visitor. A little more light is useful if you've got one of these lurking around at night:

In looking for replacement bulbs, I found some interesting information on halogen lighting and how it's different from regular incandescents. Besides being much more expensive (read: $12 for one stinkin' light).

Carpet

I guess the puddle isn't that mysterious anymore. Mike came back to take some measurements and tell me that there's no way we're going to make it to our deductible on this one, so we'll be paying for the damages ourselves. "But that's a good thing!" he keeps telling me.


But I learned something I never knew. I always thought, since the carpet looks so seamless, that it was one gigantic piece. Now I'm feeling pretty stupid; how could that ever work? I was worried that we were going to have to rip up all the carpet starting from one end of the house just to get to the spot where the water is. Mike showed me that there are actually places where the carpet stops and starts again, they just do a great job of hiding them. I found what looks like a good article on laying carpet, including carpet padding here, if anyone is facing a similar problem.

Mysterious Puddle - Part 2

Last night after I hung up with the insurance, DH brought me back to listen to a drip, drip, dripping inside the wall behind the shower faucet we just replaced. By morning it wasn't dripping, it was pouring. I tried, and failed, to shut the water off myself and called the city to come do it for me.


Today I met our insurance agent, Mike. He is as smooth-talking, Texas-drawling as they come. He is convinced that the water that I can hear spewing inside the wall is not causing the spot on the carpet. He squints, he examines, he gets down on his hands and knees and says, "Now, this is starting to make sense." His theory: the mysterious puddle is caused by a crack in the foundation, "which, I'll tell you straight isn't covered." But where could all this water be going if its not going into my carpet? I wonder. "Down." he answers, "Just away. It could be going anywhere."

"But," he continues,"I've been wrong before."

Mike arranges for a plumber to come assess the situation. He is sure to remind me on several occasions that HE will be paying for this service, saving me hundreds of dollars. He hangs up with the plumbers with a "Talk to you next time."



Mike's plumbers are very prompt. I let them in warily, but they're shy guys who seem a bit wary of me, too. I wonder if I can possibly trust anything they say.



Within 30 seconds they have diagnosed the problem: a shoddy connection by the last plumber has burst; it is NOT a crack in the foundation. "But," I ask, doubtful of my good fortune, "would the water go HERE, to this spot on the carpet?" "Yes! It would go EVERYWHERE." Hmmm...maybe Mike should get himself some new plumbers.

Mysterious Puddle - Part 1

I'm sure someday this will be funny.

I'm trying to keep that in mind because I have discovered, er stepped in, a slowly-growing-mildew-smelling wet spot on the carpet in the hallway.

Shoot.

So all morning I've been swirling theories to explain the damp circle around in my head. For instance, maybe DH got out of the shower this morning and decided to drip-dry at this exact spot. Or maybe this is just what you get when you have a toddler in the house: mysterious puddles, and I should just be glad I don't know what it is. Nothing's really wrong, and even if it is, it'll work itself out, right?

This is called Denial. The first stage of grief. I hear there are 5 stages of grief when you discover something really awful is wrong with your house. Denial, Acceptance, Bickering with Insurance, Resolution, and Dinner Party Humor. Its important to remember that you will get to Stage 5. Eventually.

By this afternoon I had made it to Acceptance ("Gasp! Maybe its a crack in the foundation!"), so I made a claim with our home insurance. I've never done this before. It took me a hour to find our policy number. Which isn't really too bad, it could have taken longer but I opened the file cabinet and found a folder labelled in my husband's writing "Home Insurance." So now you're wondering why it still took an hour, aren't you? Well, have YOU ever tried to read your policy? Oh, you have. Well then you know.

Our policy seems to say that anything may or may not be covered, depending upon how many other claims we have made, how long we have been insured, if we are inside the "claims window," and whether or not God wants our house to be damaged in that specific way. But, to their credit, I was speaking with an agent this evening and arranging to meet tomorrow. Which means its time for Stage 3...