I knew that I couldn’t go anywhere for my vacation this summer. The thousands of dollars I put on my credit cards to pay for the foundation work on the house guaranteed that. No vacation this summer or this Christmas or anytime in the foreseeable future.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
Most of my daydreams are about returning to London.
Well, returning to London or winning the lottery.
Oh wait. I win the lottery, I return to London in serious style.
Same daydream, just different degree.
Wait! Stop the entry!
There are lottery tickets in my purse right for drawings already held that I haven’t yet checked.
I am certain one of them is a winner!
I am absolute in this belief!
What the hell am I doing still typing in my unnecessarily pre-riche state?
Stopping now. I’ll be back in just a few with fantastic news!
Well, damn again.
I’m certain this damn needs no explanation.
Still, two weeks off of work is a good thing. Especially two weeks away from my work and the jackasses currently running the place.
Oh, I guess I should mention my current status at work. It seems I am still useful enough to continue in my position for the foreseeable, though by no means duration guaranteed, future. No one ever actually spoke to me on the subject - that would be too logical and, oh don’t even think it necessary, courteous - but a number of tasks were handed me by those making the hiring and firing decisions, tasks that are due in August, so apparently I will be at my desk in August and, I assume, beyond.
Oh qualified joy!
But back to discussion of this vacation I am currently on. For a go nowhere spell off of work, it has certainly been both eventful and expensive.
How so, you ask?
Well, on my first workday off I went grocery shopping in the morning.
When I returned home I pulled into my drive and saw this.
In case you’re not certain what you’re looking at -
that’s a very old, very blue house with a broken gate
(Hurricane Isaac blew that relic off its hinges and gate replacement has never risen high enough on the repair priority list for me to spend the money I don’t have to get it fixed)
and that’s a rather large tree leaning on it, a live green-leafed tree that had chosen to simply keel over onto my house on a sunshiney windless day.
The several points of bad news are:
- My house insurance deductible is $2500.
(Higher deductible means lower rates, a marvelous thing until you need to file a claim.)
- I am not related by blood or marriage to any brawny men with chainsaws, woodchippers and the talent to work in high places without falling down and hurting themselves.
- Arborists, brawny men who actually do have chainsaws, woodchippers and the talent to work in high places without falling down and hurting themselves, travel in very expensive packs.
- My favourite (less than hideously expensive) roofer was on vacation also, out of town and therefore unable to come inspect my roof and fix whatever damage was hidden beneath the fallen leafy greenery.
The several points of good news are:
- The tree was made to fall by termite damage and, the arborists tell me, fell quite slowly before coming to rest on my poor little house.
(I envision the dying tree bending a branch to wipe against its furrowed bebarked brow in the pained face I imagine high on its trunk as it finally could endure its distress no longer and fell in dramatic slow motion onto my house.)
- My house is termite treated and under warranty against wood eating critter damage.
- One of the heavy lower branches of the tree had the unbelievable serendipity as it fell to wedge itself directly onto one of my roof’s main rafter beams at the edge, so that the entire weight of the fallen tree was leaning on one of the strongest structural elements of my house instead of on the relatively fragile roof itself.
- The entire extent of the roof damage was a few feet of mildly crumpled edge shingles. Not a single hole was punched in the roof and not one shingle other than the few edgers was damaged.
- The arborists scurried back and forth across my roof, carefully removing piece after piece of the fallen tree, the heat of the sun beating down mercilessly on them as they wielded their chainsaws and ropes. Soon one after the next was forced to remove his sodden shirt in the hot New Orleans midday and thus did they reveal their understandably well-muscled torsos rippling and glistening unashamedly.
I must admit that I was fascinated, as I sat in the shade with a huge pitcher of ice-cold lemonade and glasses enough for all, by the masterful efficiency with which they worked. I declare I could not take my eyes off of the scene of pleasant industry.
- The final bill for tree removal (and no roof repair) was so far beneath my deductible that I didn’t have to file an insurance claim.
And that was how I began my summer vacation.
Little did I know that more “adventures” were in store for me as I journeyed to nowhere.
But those are tales for tomorrow.
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