The rain is gone, at least long enough for the now-spongy house to start drying out a bit. Good news on the leaking trusty-Kenmore-washer front: Noble Plumber Vinnie sent one of his nicest and smartest emissaries, who reported that it was just glop in the trap; to clean it out in our tightly-configured laundry room, he had to move the dryer, and while he was it it, he shop-vac'd out pounds of dryer lint. So perhaps the leaking washer saved us from eventual immolation by combusting dryer lint. And gosh, the floor looks clean after I mopped up a sludge tide of wet lint. Did you know that wet dryer lint lumps look like tiny drowned mice? And yes, I realize that we are much more fortunate than, say, the residents of Lambertville and New Hope, two towns full of delightful old homes that are rumored to be inundated.
This week's protracted deluges have left us with a sense of relief, since they brought several of the Four House-Horses of the Financial Apocalypse close enough to feel their cold breath on our necks:
1. The Felling of Rootbeard the Ent (est. cost if done electively, $10,000; if done post-catastrophe, up to the insurance company)
2. The Roof (est. cost of new tear-off and replacement: as high as $40,000)
3. The Death Wave of First-Generation Appliances (all now alive well beyond their expected life spans: washer, dryer, fridge, oven, cooktop, water heater)
4. The Exterior Paint/Shingle Job (est. cost if done right, about a billion dollars).We are so far from being able to pay for any one of these looming monsters that there's a certain peace involved. We will put them off indefinitely until Something Awful happens, and then we will do...something. As our equally house-challenged neighbor Mr. Dominique used to exclaim in his rich Haitian accent, "It is in God's hands!"