It seems we’ve run into a bit of bad luck over the last few weeks of 2012. I think it all began when our washing machine encountered some sort of computer glitch and stopped working. James has always been a firm believer of things happening in threes. Based on the following stories I’m about to tell, maybe it comes in multiples of three? There are several updates to share so I’m going to write them in a series of “episodes.”
Please excuse any typos… I’m writing this wearing my fingerless homeless glittens (you know, gloves/mittens). Though they came from Banana Republic so I’m not sure they really qualify. I’ll explain in a few episodes.
OK, so several weeks ago Fernando finally showed-up with our first install of lower cabinets for the kitchen. We had gotten so tired of the lull in activity that we brought the hardwood floor guys in to lay down the floor, which at least allowed us to walk from the hall to the laundry room. And created a nice echoey space for preschool wrestling and dance parties.
The one caveat to laying down the unfinished floor before installing the cabinets?: We absolutely cannot have a flood. If the unfinished hardwood were to get wet, it would warp and buckle and ruin everything and we’d have to start over… You totally know where this is headed, right?
So one day in November, while I’m on sabbatical, James is helping Fernando bring huge 10 foot cabinets into the house through various doorways and windows. I’m on this very laptop checking e-mail or doing internet Christmas shopping research or something (really, when you’re retired, who can remember what you were doing or the day of the week for that matter?). I’m in the living room and all of a sudden I hear what is clearly swearing in Portuguese, what is clearly swearing in English, and what is clearly the sound of gallons of water flooding my kitchen. I leap from my chair, stop in the kitchen doorway to see Fernando being shot in the face with steaming hot water while he holds his hands in vain over the geyser under the sink, and run to the bathroom for as many towels as I can carry. Fortunately James ignored Fernando’s suggestion to get a wrench and went straight for the water shutoff valve.
I was so mad I was shaking. I had to leave the house. It’s honestly taken me weeks to write this blog as my hands were trembling in fury. How exactly this episode occurred is still unclear and probably always will be. Something about having to remove the on/off valve of said pipe in order to cut the cabinet to fit and the vibration turning the water on again… blah blah blah blah blah blah. Fortunately we sopped up the water quickly and the only visible damage was some darkening of the wood’s end-grain.
The upside? Now he really owes me…