Broken Feet

Against it, but you do what you have to do.

I hope the play parties are as far as we have to go.

Play parties:

School makes sure the kid doesn’t steal toys or bite.

Parents coo over the place and act like they would never consider sending their kid elsewhere.

First one we attend:

Pull into the tiny parking lot behind the school.

Dude parks his BMW at a diagonal across two spaces.

Wait for him to straighten it out–nope.  It is something the guy is able to do, park that way.  I wish our new car had an actual metal key.

Turn right.  An Infiniti SUV is parked at a diagonal across two spaces.  One of the two spaces is reserved for handicapped.

Everyone is white.

Boring–guy finished.  Got him to do the rest for nothing.  No argument that his guy broke the window, though I do not think he knew about it.

Looks real good.

The end, until spring, when we will get the soffits painted.  STAY TUNED!!!!!!!!!!!

The siding guy has guys working for him to remove the siding.

One guy works the whole time.  It is goddamn cold out.  He must be of a lower class, or he owes the siding guy money.  Do not understand the social structure of unlicensed Eastern European laborers, and probably do not want to understand it.

We have an enormous window on the north side of our living room.  Six panels, all double-pane windows, replaced recently.

The guy removes the trim from around that window and various other places.  We are out at dinner by this point.  When we return, he is gone.

That night, one of the panels starts to fog up inside.  The silicone along the edge of the window must have come off, I think.

Then the fog ices up, creates a mess, etc.  Towels are involved.

We have the window guys come out to replace some other windows, and V asks them to take a look at the foggy panel.

Uh…your window fogs up because there is only one pane left in that panel.

You look at the window from the outside, and someone has:

a.  broken the outer pane

b.  cleaned out the broken glass scrupulously

Can’t see it unless you get up close.

Siding guy unreachable to start.  Phone messages start off irritated and escalate to basic, possibly insulting English:  no…more…work…for…you…until we make fix to problem.  Etc.

Guy shows up.  Says he lost phone.  Seems displeased but accepts his guy broke window.  Insists on replacing window until I tell him the window guys are doing it.  Says he’ll come back today.

I expect him to show up with a window.

The roof is leaking.  Two spots:  chimney flashing and one corner of Lila’s room.

Handyman fixes the chimney.  I root out the other leak.

In the meantime, we have roof guys out to assess the roof in general.  It isn’t in great shape–prone to more leaks.  Time to bite the bullet and replace it.

We go with the one bid that doesn’t include a tear-off.

A ‘gravel stop’ will be installed along the perimeter of the roof.  The roof has no gravel on it.  The gravel stop attaches the roofing material to the house.  It holds it tight to keep it from looking any more like a garbage bag.

The gravel stop goes over whatever is at the edge of the roof.  In our case, vinyl siding.

We hate vinyl siding.

Here are V’s rules for buying a house:

1.  No vinyl siding

2.  No bathroom door into kitchen or dining room

3.  I forget #3

If you put on a gravel stop over vinyl siding, you may later decide to remove the vinyl siding.

At which point you have to remove the gravel stop, trash it, take off siding, put on new gravel stop.  A few grand.

Therefore, it is time to remove the vinyl siding.

Roof guy:  I can do it.  Me:  how much?  Roof guy:  $900.  Me:  OK.

We have the Polish guy who paints stuff for us come out to give an estimate for the exterior.

Too cold to paint in winter, he says.  Who take off your siding?

The roof guy, I say.

You should call my friend P, he says in broken English.  He give you price to take off house and also to fix the wood.  OK, I say.  Tell him to drop by.

P drops by.  Takes a look.  I can take off siding for $800, he says.  Well, we’ll talk about it and give you a call.  Maybe I can do Friday, he says.  I’ll let you know, I say.

P leaves.

Immediately, V insists that I call the painter and tell him we don’t want this P guy to take off our siding.

I just had a conversation with him and told him we would call him.  Do not worry about it, I say.

Jesus Christ, she hassles me every day for three days.  Blah blah call painter guy and tell him to tell blah.

On a Friday morning, she calls me at work.  Did you call the painter guy, she asks.  Nah, I forgot, I say.

I know you didn’t call him, because I woke up this morning to the sound of four Polish guys ripping the siding off our house.  She says.

It was 5 degrees out, so we let them do it.