By Suzanne Sparrow Watson
For the past ten years Alan and I had an ongoing discussion about our house. He loved it and never wanted to move. I sought out smaller homes with less maintenance. I told him that if he died before me, I would sell the house the very next day. Not because I don’t love it – God knows I do – but the maintenance is a killer. Fast forward to reality. Shortly after Alan got sick, I decided that I don’t really want to sell the house. We bought the lot twenty-five years ago and built our dream house. Now, it is a place of comfort for me. But lest I give you the impression that it’s all sunshine and unicorns, I need to point out that I was right about the maintenance. I have become the female equivalent of Tim “Tool Time” Allen.
First, two days after Alan died, the air conditioner went out. This is not a good thing during the hottest July on record. The first technician told me that our condensation line was blocked, and the only fix was to run a new line over the roof. Ka-ching! Luckily our regular guy was assigned a few days later to do the work and he determined the line could be blown out with nitrogen. So… first home crisis averted. Five days later I drove two miles to the UPS store to mail some documents and picked up a flange and bolt in my tire. For those of you who are thinking, “Hey, cars have nothing to do with houses”, you are wrong. Cars are house-adjacent. First of all, they are under the roof so that counts. Second, the only time you love spending money on them is when they’re new. After that it’s just a long string of “un-fun” money: oil changes, major tune-ups, tires. Just as with a house, once the rosy glow of the purchase is over, it’s just a lot of maintenance. Anyway, I got the tire patched and went on my way.
I can see the pool again!
Next, a tree next to our pool obviously got ahold of some steroids because it grew exponentially over a two-week period of time. I watched our pool guy have to duck under a huge limb just to sweep the pool, not to mention the debris the tree dropped in his pristine waters. So, I had a tree trimmer come over to cut off the offending limb. The pool guy thanked me the next week. So did the bank account of the tree guy. The following Monday I watched our landscapers as they “worked” in our yard. I’ve never paid much attention to them because Alan loved taking care of the landscaping. But on that Monday, I watched one crew member use a blower in the front yard while the second guy sat in the truck on his phone for 20 minutes. When the first guy moved with his blower to the back yard, the second guy got out of the truck, strapped on a blower, and proceeded to re-blow what the first guy had just blown. Clearly, something had to change, and I wasn’t hopeful that it would be their work ethic, so I fired them. I hired a new landscaper, but that landscaper doesn’t work with the irrigation controller the old company used so I had to buy a new one. Ka-ching!
The very definition of “unfun” money
The following week an icon on the refrigerator began to flash and I discovered it needed a new air filter. Another day, another technician. He also told me the panel on my oven needs to be replaced. The price is the cost of a small car. I’m waiting on that one. The next day I went out to our patio and saw that the cushions on the furniture were fraying. No use having a patio if you can’t sit out there. Not exactly home maintenance, but close enough. I called the Cushion King to get them recovered. I think he is a “king” because of his vast holdings. During this time I noticed that the air pressure in the tire that was patched was consistently lower than the other three. After consulting my son-in-law, who knows a lot about cars, he told me I was borderline for needing new tires and for peace of mind I should just go ahead and get new shoes for the car. Ka-ching, Ka- ching!
I’ve discovered that animal husbandry is also part of home maintenance. In the past two months I have had to dispose of two dead birds that did Kamikaze maneuvers into our windows. I’ve picked two scorpions up off the bathroom floor. But the real challenge was, for the first time in 23 years, a Colorado River Toad appeared in our yard – in the dog run, no less. These toads are very dangerous for animals, as their primary defense system is glands that produce a poison potent enough to kill a dog. I wasn’t going to let that toad anywhere near Dash the Wonder Dog, so I got a shovel under him and hurled him over the wall. I like to think of it as my version of Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride.
Finally, last Wednesday I went to take a shower and there was no hot water. The water heater is less than two years old so I couldn’t believe it had already given up the ghost. After five minutes the water finally got hot, at which point I remembered that the water heater is connected to a circulation timer gizmo (not sure that’s exactly what it’s called). Sure enough, a power outage the previous day had knocked out the timer and the programming. I was not about to call another tradesman. So I did what any reasonable person would do: I looked up how to program it on YouTube. Admittedly it took three attempts to figure out the timer, the on/off programming, and the mode, but I did it! Plumbers must hate YouTube.
Who knows what is next? I do know this: it will be something and that something will be expensive. In all the years we’ve lived here we’ve never had this many issues in so short a period of time. I’ve had thoughts that Alan is orchestrating this to prove to me that I can take care of this house. I have reflected that we were both right – the house is a keeper, and the maintenance is a killer. But I’m going to keep plugging away. I’m not going to trade it in for a smaller version unless that house comes with a built-in handyman who can make a mean margarita.
