Taylor is at the vet's. She's plugged up. And she got into it with one of the cats some time ago, so much so that the vet found missing patches of fur about as big as a penny or a dime, one of which was still healing. I wonder who it was - Brianna or Blue? Brianna's still a wild child and Blue bites.
So. That was a couple hundred bucks with a couple more coming, no doubt.
The Man From FEMA was here this morning. I felt really sorry for him. Apparently even on a day in the low 80s, this guy was no match for it. He was sweating buckets. He had paid on his own dime to fly from Colorado to Jersey, working for a contractor for FEMA.
He surveyed the manse in all its glory. He asked me questions. I answered honestly. He sat down at the kitchen table and worked it all up on his iPad or whatever it is. It reminded me of Anon Boy who would occasionally contracts for FEMA, setting up such devices. I wondered if Anon Boy was sitting in a Marriott in Bridgewater, setting up iPads. It made me laugh a little.
It's all almost over, this stuff with the flood. Now all the other shit can start happening, like the cats getting sick. Or my car conking out. Or me getting health insurance after all and finding out I have some dread disease. I mean besides hypochondria.
My mood of "well, these things happen" and "tsk, what can you do?" and "Of course I knew the insurance agency and the government were going to butt-fuck me. They are, after all, insurance companies and the government." will only last so much longer.
I am planning on heading it off at the pass. Somehow. Because these things happen. And what can you do?
How much more before it tips the scales?
Showing posts with label Hurricane Babbling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hurricane Babbling. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Things You Need for a Flood and After
1. Flood insurance. Although I have no doubt they will laugh at you just like Plymouth Rock / High Point Insurance (ha!) laughed at me, you still have it.
2. At least a gallon of Microban. I swear by that stuff.
3. An $800 Honda generator to keep the sump pump going.
4. Healthy food that doesn't have to be cooked or chilled. I suggest a diner attached to your property.
5. Clean water. Lots of it because you will need to drink a lot more of it than you realize.
6. Waders.
7. Knowledge of how to operate whatever turn-off valves, breakers, and switches you have in your house.
8. A hand-crank or battery operated NOAA radio, a reliable and non-hysterical radio station.
9. A lamp to wear on your head. You have no idea how handy these things are.
10. Battery-operated lanterns. Really, you don't need to add the humility of a house fire in a flood. Although the insurance might give you a better deal...hmm...
11. The location of the nearest and best hotel that still has electricity and can be reached by a vehicle without being a monster truck or something the Israeli military would drive. Because honestly, if it's just you and the Spouse and any kiddles, this is really where you should be. Give up the house. Go. Watch pay-per-view and sit around in your bathrobes. Seriously.
12. The name of a very good cleaning company.
13. 1-800-GOT-JUNK for the heavy, nasty stuff.
14. And the realization that this will happen again. I'm sorry. It's true. It will happen again. Deal.
2. At least a gallon of Microban. I swear by that stuff.
3. An $800 Honda generator to keep the sump pump going.
4. Healthy food that doesn't have to be cooked or chilled. I suggest a diner attached to your property.
5. Clean water. Lots of it because you will need to drink a lot more of it than you realize.
6. Waders.
7. Knowledge of how to operate whatever turn-off valves, breakers, and switches you have in your house.
8. A hand-crank or battery operated NOAA radio, a reliable and non-hysterical radio station.
9. A lamp to wear on your head. You have no idea how handy these things are.
10. Battery-operated lanterns. Really, you don't need to add the humility of a house fire in a flood. Although the insurance might give you a better deal...hmm...
11. The location of the nearest and best hotel that still has electricity and can be reached by a vehicle without being a monster truck or something the Israeli military would drive. Because honestly, if it's just you and the Spouse and any kiddles, this is really where you should be. Give up the house. Go. Watch pay-per-view and sit around in your bathrobes. Seriously.
12. The name of a very good cleaning company.
13. 1-800-GOT-JUNK for the heavy, nasty stuff.
14. And the realization that this will happen again. I'm sorry. It's true. It will happen again. Deal.
Thursday, September 08, 2011
And All Is As It Was Before
The air conditioning is on! The blower motor works!
I know it's only 68F here today but my house feels completely sodden. I have found mold growing in unexpected places. I need this place to dry out.
Now I have to deal with stacks of stuff that were hauled up from the basement. And to quote the reliable Mr. Hornsby, gonna be some changes made. Actually, they already are being made.
I will have to force myself up from the comfy sofa when I get home to deal with this.
Oh. You probably already knew this, but I realized this week with no small amount of horror that I'm a hoarder.
It happened last Saturday when MM was here. She watched the guys bring up box after box of yarn from the basement. We had been talking about crocheting. I said something about occupational therapy. When the last box was deposited in the living room, she said, "Occupational therapy, hm?" That same evening, I watched an episode of "Hoarders" and thought, oh, dear God. I am a hoarder.
Luckily, the Big Rummage Sale begins taking donations this Saturday. I intend to load up my car with clothes that don't fit, out of date but still functioning electronics, and yarn. Lots and lots of yarn.
Hm. No. All is not as it was before. Things are getting better. About bloody time.
I know it's only 68F here today but my house feels completely sodden. I have found mold growing in unexpected places. I need this place to dry out.
Now I have to deal with stacks of stuff that were hauled up from the basement. And to quote the reliable Mr. Hornsby, gonna be some changes made. Actually, they already are being made.
I will have to force myself up from the comfy sofa when I get home to deal with this.
Oh. You probably already knew this, but I realized this week with no small amount of horror that I'm a hoarder.
It happened last Saturday when MM was here. She watched the guys bring up box after box of yarn from the basement. We had been talking about crocheting. I said something about occupational therapy. When the last box was deposited in the living room, she said, "Occupational therapy, hm?" That same evening, I watched an episode of "Hoarders" and thought, oh, dear God. I am a hoarder.
Luckily, the Big Rummage Sale begins taking donations this Saturday. I intend to load up my car with clothes that don't fit, out of date but still functioning electronics, and yarn. Lots and lots of yarn.
Hm. No. All is not as it was before. Things are getting better. About bloody time.
Sunday, September 04, 2011
Re-enactments Nightly!
Dylan so loved the fact that I waded in knee high filthy water that to rescue him, now that the basement is generally open to the cats, he runs down the stairs any chance he gets.
Then he runs around the corner to the dark part of the basement, sits neatly with his tail curled around his toes, and waits for me to come find him.
My part is to slowly follow him into the dark part of the basement, spot him, spot him spotting me, and cry, "Dylan!" He stands on all fours with his tail quavering. I have to then pick him up and carry him up the stairs.
He gets to the landing, dances around a little bit, then runs back downstairs.
Maybe I should start calling him "Rerun".
Then he runs around the corner to the dark part of the basement, sits neatly with his tail curled around his toes, and waits for me to come find him.
My part is to slowly follow him into the dark part of the basement, spot him, spot him spotting me, and cry, "Dylan!" He stands on all fours with his tail quavering. I have to then pick him up and carry him up the stairs.
He gets to the landing, dances around a little bit, then runs back downstairs.
Maybe I should start calling him "Rerun".
Saturday, September 03, 2011
The All New Amazing Chain Gang!
With just a couple thou and maybe a day, you can go from this:
To this!
Scavengers
They've been trolling up and down my street all day.
Scavenger #1
A nice lady about my age. I recognize her from the neighborhood. I have thrown out all of my Christmas decorations because I stopped decorating for Christmas at least five years ago. She goes through a couple of boxes. I go out and talk to her a little. I warn her that everything has been in very, very, very nasty water. She says she knows and obviously doesn't care. She continues picking through for the next half-hour. I don't understand. There aren't that many clear containers and trust me, you do not want a whiff of the swordfish in the plastic bags.
Scavenger #2
An old white guy with a ramshackle pick-up truck with what looks like hand-made rails on the sides. He doesn't even get out. My stuff is inferior.
Scavenger #3
A trio of 30-ish types. She heads for the Christmas decorations and wants the whole box. He just rips out the string of lights and throws that in the back of the truck. The driver, no doubt fearing for a quick get-away, stays in the truck. She takes a liking to the electric pumpkin. (I've stopped decorating for Halloween, too.) Reluctantly, he chucks it into the back of the truck.
In every instance, I go out and tell the pickers they can take whatever they want as long as they don't open the bags and as long as they realize what they've grabbed has been in contaminated water. It never seems to bother them.
I remember after Hurricane Floyd, I went picking in Bound Brook. I got all of one block into town when I realized that I was intruding on other people's misery, watching them throw away what they had probably worked very hard to get. I turned around and later the police put up barricades.
While I'm glad to see stuff not end up in a landfill, as most of this must, it still feels a little intrusive. As for sensitivity, this is Jersey, yo? Where the weak are killed and eaten. Like swordfish.
Scavenger #1
A nice lady about my age. I recognize her from the neighborhood. I have thrown out all of my Christmas decorations because I stopped decorating for Christmas at least five years ago. She goes through a couple of boxes. I go out and talk to her a little. I warn her that everything has been in very, very, very nasty water. She says she knows and obviously doesn't care. She continues picking through for the next half-hour. I don't understand. There aren't that many clear containers and trust me, you do not want a whiff of the swordfish in the plastic bags.
Scavenger #2
An old white guy with a ramshackle pick-up truck with what looks like hand-made rails on the sides. He doesn't even get out. My stuff is inferior.
Scavenger #3
A trio of 30-ish types. She heads for the Christmas decorations and wants the whole box. He just rips out the string of lights and throws that in the back of the truck. The driver, no doubt fearing for a quick get-away, stays in the truck. She takes a liking to the electric pumpkin. (I've stopped decorating for Halloween, too.) Reluctantly, he chucks it into the back of the truck.
In every instance, I go out and tell the pickers they can take whatever they want as long as they don't open the bags and as long as they realize what they've grabbed has been in contaminated water. It never seems to bother them.
I remember after Hurricane Floyd, I went picking in Bound Brook. I got all of one block into town when I realized that I was intruding on other people's misery, watching them throw away what they had probably worked very hard to get. I turned around and later the police put up barricades.
While I'm glad to see stuff not end up in a landfill, as most of this must, it still feels a little intrusive. As for sensitivity, this is Jersey, yo? Where the weak are killed and eaten. Like swordfish.
Friday, September 02, 2011
We Like The Good Drugs
Here it is six days later and really? Aside from financially, I'm better off than I was last Friday.
Here's why:
1. I've been through a flood and I have a much better idea of what to do if ever faced with another one.
2. I have been forced to pry my journals away from my clutches and throw away the unsalvageable ones - which turns out to be most, since once I got to a certain point, I just didn't give a fuck anymore.
3. I have a new clothes washer!
4. I have a new clothes dryer!
5. I have a new hot water heater!
6. I finally, finally, finally got that crap This End Up stuff out of the basement along with the ugly and unwieldy rug Crazy Carol forced on me ten years ago.
7. I have learned I can live without air conditioning.
8. I have scheduled people to come to my house at 7 tomorrow morning to start cleaning, sanitizing, throwing shit away.
9. I have learned that I have only one neighbor I can count on and even that one, not very much.
10. Friends have come from unexpected places to be supportive.
11. Work was extraordinarily understanding, but I can't push it much further.
12. I've found a therapist who might actually do me some good.
13. The new drugs seem to be doing a fine job.
Here's why:
1. I've been through a flood and I have a much better idea of what to do if ever faced with another one.
2. I have been forced to pry my journals away from my clutches and throw away the unsalvageable ones - which turns out to be most, since once I got to a certain point, I just didn't give a fuck anymore.
3. I have a new clothes washer!
4. I have a new clothes dryer!
5. I have a new hot water heater!
6. I finally, finally, finally got that crap This End Up stuff out of the basement along with the ugly and unwieldy rug Crazy Carol forced on me ten years ago.
7. I have learned I can live without air conditioning.
8. I have scheduled people to come to my house at 7 tomorrow morning to start cleaning, sanitizing, throwing shit away.
9. I have learned that I have only one neighbor I can count on and even that one, not very much.
10. Friends have come from unexpected places to be supportive.
11. Work was extraordinarily understanding, but I can't push it much further.
12. I've found a therapist who might actually do me some good.
13. The new drugs seem to be doing a fine job.
Thursday, September 01, 2011
Minute by Minute
7 am - Sophie, the hardest cat to wrangle, senses a disturbance in the force and runs for cover in my bedroom. I promptly slam the door shut and by 7:30, all the cats are wrangled into safely contained areas.
8 am - I discover that my grandparents WWII era diaries are salvageable. Tragic entry in March, 1946 (um, post-WWII diaries) that my grandmother miscarried a girl. On the third day after the miscarriage, my damned grandfather made her get up out of bed to fix his breakfast.
8:15 am - I begin a regimen of 15 minutes work / 15 minutes rest, which rapidly devolves into 30 minutes work. 30 minutes more work. Alternately mop and use the new and deeply loved Shop-Vac.
9:15 am - I have everything off the washer and dryer. I have moved anything from the bed, which is going to Got Junk.
9:30 am - Settle in for a rest and glass of water.
9:33 am - New dryer is here! New washer is here! New hot water heater is here! The delivery guys will hook up the dryer but not the hot water heater (no, don't know why). Briefly consider trying to fit myself into the washer.
9:45 am - Delivery guys now hammering the doors off the basement.
9:46 am - Cannot begin to describe the deep stink of the clothes I wear to clean up the basement. And yes, I have fans going and the dehumidifier. Etc.
8 am - I discover that my grandparents WWII era diaries are salvageable. Tragic entry in March, 1946 (um, post-WWII diaries) that my grandmother miscarried a girl. On the third day after the miscarriage, my damned grandfather made her get up out of bed to fix his breakfast.
8:15 am - I begin a regimen of 15 minutes work / 15 minutes rest, which rapidly devolves into 30 minutes work. 30 minutes more work. Alternately mop and use the new and deeply loved Shop-Vac.
9:15 am - I have everything off the washer and dryer. I have moved anything from the bed, which is going to Got Junk.
9:30 am - Settle in for a rest and glass of water.
9:33 am - New dryer is here! New washer is here! New hot water heater is here! The delivery guys will hook up the dryer but not the hot water heater (no, don't know why). Briefly consider trying to fit myself into the washer.
9:45 am - Delivery guys now hammering the doors off the basement.
9:46 am - Cannot begin to describe the deep stink of the clothes I wear to clean up the basement. And yes, I have fans going and the dehumidifier. Etc.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Always Willing To Share
Whoa. I think I am in big-time denial about how bad this really was.
Observe, if you will:
Behind the stairs, in the "pantry" part of the basement.
Once, this was a couple of box loads of journals and blank books. Denial, much? Yeah. Think so.
Story of My Life
In the padded and mostly waterproof envelope, I found several letters by Charlie, relatively intact. Much rejoicing! I glanced through a few and one in particular had me confounded. RCW getting married? To a Muslim guy? Who owned a lot of guns and didn't speak English? Mind you, this was written in 1982.
On April 1.
I also found a picture of him. He was a good looking guy but clueless when it came to the fairer sex (that would be us, ladies.)
I also found cards from people now long gone - Xman's mother and stepfather.
Letters from Xman, which I was too stupid to understand when I was 28 and scared half to death. Um. Much as I am now. He tried at first. Well. Until late February, 1983 when he said he wanted to, ahem, kill me.
But it was nice to remember that there was once a sweeter side to him.
I found my grandparents' diaries from WWII. Things are drying out.
I'm surprised at how quickly the journals are drying! I know there are more waiting for me in the muck. I'll see what I can do this evening.
When I kept those cards and letters, I must have thought that these people were immortal. That things would never change. I was as wrong about that as everyone else and I'm glad I still have these mementos.
Oh - I love working from home. Getting way more done at home than I do in the office. Still, back to the grind.
On April 1.
I also found a picture of him. He was a good looking guy but clueless when it came to the fairer sex (that would be us, ladies.)
I also found cards from people now long gone - Xman's mother and stepfather.
Letters from Xman, which I was too stupid to understand when I was 28 and scared half to death. Um. Much as I am now. He tried at first. Well. Until late February, 1983 when he said he wanted to, ahem, kill me.
But it was nice to remember that there was once a sweeter side to him.
I found my grandparents' diaries from WWII. Things are drying out.
I'm surprised at how quickly the journals are drying! I know there are more waiting for me in the muck. I'll see what I can do this evening.
When I kept those cards and letters, I must have thought that these people were immortal. That things would never change. I was as wrong about that as everyone else and I'm glad I still have these mementos.
Oh - I love working from home. Getting way more done at home than I do in the office. Still, back to the grind.
PS on Journals
The pricier notebooks, like the kind you get from Barnes & Noble seem to hold up best.
Even in crappy notebooks, Pilot Precise ink stayed put, but the notebooks are now very fragile.
Of course, you could have a brain in your head and store valuable things where they won't get flooded.
Even in crappy notebooks, Pilot Precise ink stayed put, but the notebooks are now very fragile.
Of course, you could have a brain in your head and store valuable things where they won't get flooded.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Things Just Keep On Happening
Things are happening so quickly that I'm keeping a jot-it-down journal.
- I may have a new hot water heater by the end of the day tomorrow.
- I have permission from H4&McC to work from home until next week. (Squee!)
- I was at Home Depot when a new shipment of dehumidifiers came in. (I keep wanting to call them defibrillators. I hope this is not an ill omen.)
- Meh, I left my phone at work, so will have to go back to fetch it.
- I talked Emma out of coming out. I know she would have wanted to help, but they really can't afford it right now.
- My fear of electrical appliances is decreasing.
- The weather is heating up. Ewww.
- Sven was full of good advice about insurance. Basically, forget my agency. File a claim which they will deny and then go to FEMA. And we'll see what wonders the government can work. 'Scuse me if I am somewhat skeptical.
- I am keeping track of everything I spend on the clean-up.
Excelsior and all that.
- I may have a new hot water heater by the end of the day tomorrow.
- I have permission from H4&McC to work from home until next week. (Squee!)
- I was at Home Depot when a new shipment of dehumidifiers came in. (I keep wanting to call them defibrillators. I hope this is not an ill omen.)
- Meh, I left my phone at work, so will have to go back to fetch it.
- I talked Emma out of coming out. I know she would have wanted to help, but they really can't afford it right now.
- My fear of electrical appliances is decreasing.
- The weather is heating up. Ewww.
- Sven was full of good advice about insurance. Basically, forget my agency. File a claim which they will deny and then go to FEMA. And we'll see what wonders the government can work. 'Scuse me if I am somewhat skeptical.
- I am keeping track of everything I spend on the clean-up.
Excelsior and all that.
A New Day
Apparently, the phone rang at 9:30 last night. It was Emma, offering to come out from 'Sconsin to help me. It's a kind offer, but I doubt anything will come of it. After all, right now Sven is working graveyard shift at a lab for them to make ends meet. And as kind as it is, if she can't get out here by Friday, I don't know how much of a point there is to it.
#
Last night, I sat in the big chair, feeling utterly defeated. Dylan climbed on my lap. I started to cry. I was afraid of this, afraid I wouldn't stop, that I would go out of control. Dylan nudged my face with his, licked away my tears (mm! Salt!) and clung to me until I said, well, that's enough of that. Off to bed with us.
#
I am going to have to miss more time from work than I wanted. I think I have to take today off to salvage what I can. I changed my GOT JUNK appt to Thursday. The sooner they get the crap out of here, the better. Then, of course, there's the weekend.
I want to get a hot water heater in here. I took a very bracing cold sponge bath last night and while I recommend it for cooling off after hot, dirty work, it leaves much to be desired on a day to day basis.
#
Must admit, I'm scared to take any time off work. Not only do I lose the money, but the perpetually grumpy (and possibly anorexic?) HR director seems to take it as a personal offense every time I take a day off.
#
Last night, I sat in the big chair, feeling utterly defeated. Dylan climbed on my lap. I started to cry. I was afraid of this, afraid I wouldn't stop, that I would go out of control. Dylan nudged my face with his, licked away my tears (mm! Salt!) and clung to me until I said, well, that's enough of that. Off to bed with us.
#
I am going to have to miss more time from work than I wanted. I think I have to take today off to salvage what I can. I changed my GOT JUNK appt to Thursday. The sooner they get the crap out of here, the better. Then, of course, there's the weekend.
I want to get a hot water heater in here. I took a very bracing cold sponge bath last night and while I recommend it for cooling off after hot, dirty work, it leaves much to be desired on a day to day basis.
#
Must admit, I'm scared to take any time off work. Not only do I lose the money, but the perpetually grumpy (and possibly anorexic?) HR director seems to take it as a personal offense every time I take a day off.
Monday, August 29, 2011
That's All YOU'LL Ever Get of Tara!
I put boxes and boxes of my beautiful, spoiled yarn on the curb.
I just saw someone picking through it.
I hollered through the open kitchen window, "You don't want that! It's NASTY."
And off they went, fucking scavengers!
I just saw someone picking through it.
I hollered through the open kitchen window, "You don't want that! It's NASTY."
And off they went, fucking scavengers!
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