Apparently it's unchristian to wish a scorching case of the clap on someone.

[Or: This Old Blog, Part III.]

No matter how much they deserve it.

I looked it up.

Alas.

Nothing major has blown up of late--in fact, Adventures in Quick-setting Concrete went remarkably well, considering I had two curious toddlers who insisted on examining it close up. And, no, I don't think I live above an old Indian burial ground (though, honestly, that thought ran through my fevered brain when Lucy found the cat skull, I swear).

Even if we did live above one, I think the irritated spirits would be feeling more pity than outrage by now. (There's another story aoout our house that I've shrugged off as apocryphal, but I'm not going to discuss that at the moment.) Why? Well, some new repair work around the house has revealed to us further perfidy from the Three Dollar Renovator!

Our house is cinderblock, clad with vinyl siding (which is why most people are amazed that it is, in fact, cinderblock). A lot of people don't like it, but as long as it doesn't look like cinderblock, I rather like it. It just feels more solid. Sure, I'd prefer brick, but I'd prefer a lot of things. Wishes are like excretory orifices, as the saying goes.

Speaking of excretory orifices: We experienced water damage in our bedroom--the product of a regular leak and an ice dam. People living in warmer climes: count yourself blessed that you don't have to deal with the ice dam phenomenon. Short version: heavy snowfall can melt on a roof even in subfreezing temperatures, even with the finest of insulation. The snow turns to ice and migrates toward the eaves, with sometimes hideous results. Take it from someone who spent the better part of two hours on a ladder in February with wind chills measurable in the single digits hammering away at ice nearly six inches thick--you don't want this.

Be that as it may, we hired someone to fix the leak--again, $3DR avoided minor expense, costing us more. But finally, we are able to afford to fix the damage to the inner bedroom wall (one of the benefits of being overtaxed throughout the year). The subcontractors (who arrived on time this morning, as promised--I revived with cold water) started working and discovered that this particular area had experienced a lot of leaks in the past (remember, it's cinderblock--no drywall-black-mold-making-me-homicidal-suicidal-Falling Down-style here).

And the king of all assh--er, the $3DR knew it. Instead of addressing the leak with concrete and plaster, HE COVERED UP THE AREA WITH WALLPAPER AND PAINTED OVER THE WHOLE THING.

Hide the problem, don't fix it. Well, we're getting it fixed right this time. Speaking of fixing...

"Kids, we're going to hide Daddy's guns, OK?"

If you are buying a house in the metro Detroit area that has been recently renovated, call me first. I may be able to spare you some trouble.