*** Based on a true, ongoing and developing story lived by the author right now
Christmas 2024 – December 24th, 25th, and 26th
Hey there Diary,
Haven’t been around much lately, I know. But I need you now.
Not only do I have very young puppies shitting on newspaper and every other surface they can reach, but I am also now shitting in a pot – uncomfortably, I might add. I haven’t been through something quite so ‘shitty’ in my life, I don’t think. If I have --- I have chosen to relegate it to a forgotten, never-lived past.
This feels like a last straw type of thing. It really does. Almost like some kind of punishment … Have I been unkind, ‘shitty’, or bitchy toward someone recently? Or at some other point in time relegated to the attic of some other life I may have lived, or not? Who knows? It still feels like my house has decided to let me know my pace is not fast enough. It doesn’t suit Miss House – I should name her. Hmmm! I will have to think about it.
And the puppies, they are so cute, so lovable, and so small. It’s cold outside, and they are babies with barely enough fur across their too-close-to-the-snow rotund bellies. I can’t make them go outside – carry them out when they settle to do their business – there are nine of them, after all. I mean... Come on – that’s just too many to catch each one every time. I’m taking care of them temporarily, but, ouf, it is such an inconvenient time.
It all started at the end of November when I realized the sink had been leaking into the sand below for quite some time. How much? I didn’t have a clue yet. So, I condemned the sink – there being no valve installed. My house was built in 1947, and the plumbing was added at an unknown later date. There is a mix and match of materials and inconceivable paths under the four layers of floor I stripped. Four, distinct wooden layers; it doesn’t count the newspaper, cardboard, and linoleum layers.
This started a whole process though, – an ongoing, if not developing, process demanding attention to detail, but not too much – just enough. The house was built somewhat crooked. The supporting beams are huge tree trunks on concrete blocks. The utility basement is 3 feet deep and filled with sand. Thank God for small favours. This aspect significantly reduced damage. A fan going 24 hours a day for a few weeks would take care of it.
A few days later, I removed the sink, which had been placed directly above a supporting beam. It showed water damage. Old water damage. The black rot had dried, and the beam had suffered, but not as unduly as one might imagine. Still, taking no chances, I had it removed and replaced by a new beam on December 23rd. Just a few days ago.
I haven’t written in a while, I know, I have been so busy – but these past few days have just been too much. It is Christmas, and there are events to attend and host – and here I am without a toilet, a dangerous floor and a somewhat chaotic worksite since the workers are sporadic.
One day, I will tell you the floor’s story – one would swear it is alive. It has been talking to me – in a cryptic manner, of course, but speaking nonetheless. I just don’t get it all yet.
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