Doug and I decided to increase our R factor (thermal resistance) in the attic insulation. A man and woman came to install the long sheets of reflective material. They sweltered in the attic, hauling rolls of aluminum sheets up the pull-down stairs. I gave them water en masse.
Several hours into the project I heard a loud thud then the pinging of things falling onto the kitchen floor. Instinctively I knew and hollered, "Are you OK?" I rounded the corner, looked up and saw this.
Only, at that moment, a woman's blue-jeaned leg was dangling through the hole. She was fine but shaken. I had her come sit and rest a bit.
Doug returned from golfing. I heard the usual garage sounds of him putting away his clubs. Then I heard the unusual sound of him flinging open the door to the house and yelling, "We've got a problem." Seems when he hung up his golf bag cart, it fell off the garage wall onto the pipe leading to the water heater, breaking the pipe and shut off valve. Doug later told me, "First thing I knew of it was when water blasted into my face. Good thing it wasn't hot water!"
|That's the attic stuff wrapping it with duct tape!|
I ran barefoot to the cement floor seeing water spurting out as he ran for the street cut off. Standing in water, suddenly I realized all that woodworking equipment still plugged in might not be the safest place. I came back inside.
At the street he struggled to turn it off because the metal had shifted so he eventually cut a piece to free it up. Fortunately Doug had aimed the spewing pipe toward the street so most of the water flowed right out, causing no damage.
When the dust settled and the water evaporated, I thought, "Trouble comes in threes. What next?" I even mentioned it to a friend.
My dread turned to relief when I remembered something else that had already happened as we were in the granite store choosing kitchen counter tops for an upgrade. Sitting with the salesman in his office, we heard, "Excuse me, I need to take this call."
He jumped up and ran from the office He returned with 3 other customers and explained, "There's been a shooting in the parking lot next door by the supply building."
I asked, "Is that part of your store?"
He said, "Yes, my son works there."
"Is he OK?"
"Yes, that's who called me. They're locked inside and so are we now. You all are safe here in my office away from the glass storefront." I felt safe, assuming granite trumped bullets.
|I sat in this white chair, wondering how a shopping trip turned deadly. Am I on a reality show?|
A dozen or so police cars later, one drunk man was taken to jail. The other man was unharmed thanks to poor aim. The police station is right across the street. The fighters: dumb and dumber.
When I remembered the third incident, I sighed, "Thank goodness it's all over!"
I don't think of myself as superstitious but. . .thank goodness it's all over!
Maybe I spoke too soon. Today my doorbell rang. "Ma'am, the water company broke a gas line so we're here to repair it. Your hot water will be off an hour or so." Guess this isn't hair-coloring day after all.
The whole city has descended out front. This one is NOT on us though. So perhaps it's my next door neighbors beginning their 3 troubles!
|Small stuff. It's all small stuff. Don't break a sweat over it.|