When we moved into Mt. Pleasant several years ago, we made do, knowing that there were things that would eventually need out attention, like the front porch that was beginning to lean forward and that was inhabitable because it was crooked. Still, it was fun on Halloween and for Christmas decorations. For shits and giggles, I had them look at fixing it, in addition to the windows I've been saving for on the 2nd floor of the house.
Salesman says, "Sure. This will be easy. They can pump it up in no time."
Carpenter, builder, and handyman comes and says, "Sir, there is no foundation under this porch, it's built on dirt, and water has been leaking in between the cracks for decades. All the wood underneath is rotted out and it is only a short time before the weight of the roof will collapse it (the roof above the porch is in great shape). I was there for every step, and he was right. Believe it or not, the entire porch was being held up by ply-wood. When you flicked the wood, it crumbled. We immediately put up support beams to hold the roof up.
He called his bosses. They came back. They grumbled and groaned. I knew it wouldn't be pretty. It was ugly. "Boys," I yelled upstairs. "We ain't getting a pool any time soon. Sorry."
It's one of those things I know has to be done, and they sweetened the deal up with promises of pine wood, a ceiling fan, new windows, and sturdiness. My credit is good, but I'm like my father...I bury any savings I have in milk cans in the back yard and bury them deep so no one will find them (that's not true, but it was what big Pete always teased).
I'm jumping in with a yes, though. Here we go. And Chitunga immediately stepped up and cut out the rhododendrons (which we both hated) and relocated the mailbox that was installed on the doorway of the front porch. Yikes. Good think I took on summer courses.
Frustrated that I can't do it myself.
Blessed to be fortunate to reinvest in the house.
Salesman says, "Sure. This will be easy. They can pump it up in no time."
Carpenter, builder, and handyman comes and says, "Sir, there is no foundation under this porch, it's built on dirt, and water has been leaking in between the cracks for decades. All the wood underneath is rotted out and it is only a short time before the weight of the roof will collapse it (the roof above the porch is in great shape). I was there for every step, and he was right. Believe it or not, the entire porch was being held up by ply-wood. When you flicked the wood, it crumbled. We immediately put up support beams to hold the roof up.
He called his bosses. They came back. They grumbled and groaned. I knew it wouldn't be pretty. It was ugly. "Boys," I yelled upstairs. "We ain't getting a pool any time soon. Sorry."
It's one of those things I know has to be done, and they sweetened the deal up with promises of pine wood, a ceiling fan, new windows, and sturdiness. My credit is good, but I'm like my father...I bury any savings I have in milk cans in the back yard and bury them deep so no one will find them (that's not true, but it was what big Pete always teased).
I'm jumping in with a yes, though. Here we go. And Chitunga immediately stepped up and cut out the rhododendrons (which we both hated) and relocated the mailbox that was installed on the doorway of the front porch. Yikes. Good think I took on summer courses.
Frustrated that I can't do it myself.
Blessed to be fortunate to reinvest in the house.
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