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Monday, October 10

Who put this here?

Mang.

I knew it was going to rain most of the day on Saturday.  I made plans to be productive. Wash the Vertigo Meatplow V.7 and install the rigid crabon frok back on the front part.  Replace some cleats on my two pairs of work shoes... that were gonna need some Dremel/drill work in order to remove some of the screws.  Some various things my mom wanted done at her place.  Get shit done.

I didn't get much done at all on that day.

New cleats on the shoes that didn't require power tools to take off the old ones.  Get out the Dremel for the other pair.

Then the house starts to shake and loud noises are everywhere.

The Pie yells, "TREE TREE TREE TREE!"

Pants shatten.

Run up stairs.  Nia and The Pie are okay in the living room.  Run up the other stairs.

Did I ever mention that I'm not a fan of split levels?  Seriously, how is this a good use of space?

Anyways, a large pine tree had come down and shaved off the corner of our bedroom.
 
Well then.

The Pie is in a bit of shock.  I'm looking at my shit getting rained on.  The adult purchase of a mattress that costs as much as my first three cars turned into the world's most expensive sponge.  All the things are covered in lumber, shingles, tar paper, fluffy bits of fiberglass insulation... getting drenched and making a shit dollar stew.

Start pulling stuff out and The Pie gets to calling the landlord.  Bed apart, things tossed in whatever rooms that don't have holes in them, library books taking on water... meh.  I used to work at the library (for three months).  They hate wet books.

The rest of the day is some sort of chaos.  The Pie posts something on FaceBook, and my phone starts blowing up (not literally, iPhone not Samsung ).  Offers of help, chainsaws, tarps, stuff.  Restoration guys show up pretty quick and get to tearing the bedroom apart. TV news guy shows up and videos my house with much interest.  I consider the opportunity to be viral sensation.  Ask The Pie if I should run out with my shirt off, beer in hand and babbling something.  Mebbe aliens.  Think better of it.  He asks for an interview but my neighbor and I are like, "ummmm, no."

I'm thinking I shoulda went with the alien thing tho.

Negotiations (somewhat heated) between the neighbor and the restoration crew regarding removal of the tree since the end of it is across his driveway and also on top of his house.

Drink beer.  Disassociate from the reality of it all.  I deserve it... and am also past the point of my responsibilities.

Eventually, there's a reluctant agreement between all parties.

Tree comes down hard, like a hippo jumping out of a lake.  Rips shit up and The Pie was feeding dogs in the bike room downstairs when it all happens.  More pants shatten.  Second time she's had to endure the whole "sky is falling thing" today.

The cleanup goes into the night.  I eat a slice of pizza with the restoration guys. Because they offered.

So, that's that.  We're all fine.  There will be some/plenty of inconvenience in the coming weeks, but honestly, we were super lucky.  Somewhere around 33.3% of the time, we're sleeping in that room. Coulda been way worse.  There were others in the neighborhood that were without power, and that really woulda made things that much worse if we were in that boat with them.  Oh yeah, other people in the country are under water and people in other countries are dead, so our problems are small in comparison.

This is what it looks like now:

To be honest, I'm torn between being sad that I wasn't a little more in shock on a human level as The Pie was and happy that I just said, "Everyone okay? Then let's do some shit until there's no more shit to do... and then drink beer and watch the professionals."

Also, it was weird that considering all the things going on with Hurricane Matthew, our house ended up on not only the local news but the Weather Channel to boot.  One of the local news people posted a photo of our house on FaceBook and it was shared 90+ times... with all  kinds of people adding their two cents and what not.

At least it kept me entertained for awhile once things got quiet.

BTW: Sizemore (the dog with no eyes) loves this fan:

It's in the main to hall to get rid of some moisture issues, and for some reason, it's his new friend.  They're coming back to take it away, and I'm afraid we're going to have to buy him a new one.  He's in love.

So... thanks for all the tots and prayers and to the person that had wine delivered to The Pie... as I ran out of beer and found out that in times like these, wine isn't that bad.

4 comments:

montana said...

Hot wine?

bp said...

Holy Sh!t!

Extra points for use of "nonplussed".

Anonymous said...

I think (ok, I know, it's like I'm some kind of clinician or something...) that our adventures prepares us for this kind of adversity. Our brains establish neural pathways for survival while we're bombing down XYZ trail or getting lost or stressing out about where the f the venue is and do they have beer I don't know holy crAP was that a hardee's man I could use a biscuit... Neural pathways become well-bedded with repetition. Then, when real stress happens, there's that pathway. It's comfortable. Ready to go, I've got this.
See...you have been training.

Mike B.

Anonymous said...

you should have run out of the house nakaade with bike in hand...