DEBRIS.COMgood for a laugh, or possibly an aneurysm

Another story from the archives… written in April 2002 about a house I no longer own (although it is back on the market for 20% more than I got when I sold it).

I was up in the “crawlspace,” which is Californian for attic, doing something wholly unethical — I was setting out fresh boxes of mouse poison, having lost too many nights’ sleep when the little rodents would fall down between the studs of our bedroom wall and spend the next 48 hours thumping and scratching (eight inches from our heads as we lay in bed) until they finally died or crawled out.

I assume they can crawl out. If not, there are at least four dessicated mouse husks, and all manner of tiny mouse graffiti, I’m sure, on the back side of the sheetrock.

Anyway, it was raining hard, and because the roof is one of the few things we have not had to repair since we moved in, I crawled around with my flashlight on the theory that if we had a leak, this was the time to find it. And of course, I did; one of the rafters was wet, although not dripping, which would have been worse as the dripping water would eventually eat through the ceiling somewhere. You don’t really have to ask me how I know this.

I called a few roofers. Most chortled derisively. Calling a roofer during a rainstorm is like trying to take a dump during halftime. Roofers were working double shifts just to respond to emergency calls, and my moistened roof beam simply did not qualify.

We finally got it fixed… just in time for the skies to dry up for the year.