The Joys of Home Ownership Are Highly Over-rated

Do you hear that howling and thrashing of wind? It’s not an F-5 tornado. It’s me!I’m shrieking like a banshee. Some of you might remember that I posted about profanity a few days ago. Well, all that is “gone with the wind.” I’m totally wild right now, and creating new words as I go along. It’s all because of the dubious joys of Home Ownership! None of y’all have probably ever gotten to experience that, right?

Oh, I know you have. You probably have many stories that rival mine. If you’ve written about it, give me the permalink and I’ll put it at the bottom of this page so other people can read. First, I’m going to get this out of my system.

When I moved into the house that belonged to my husband, I was plumb appalled by the mess. I would have been too embarrassed to allow the movers into the house, if they hadn’t seen my other house. They knew I didn’t really live that way. I went to work cleaning every filthy-nasty surface of this place. The carpets had to go! They were stained beyond redemption.

I hired a company to rip the nasty old carpet out and install lovely cream colored carpet instead. I didn’t buy the most expensive, but neither did I buy the cheapest rug they had. The man who put down the carpet stretched it with a knee-kicker (and bragged to me about the fact that he had artificial knees from his years of hard work). When he was finished, it was lovely—for awhile.

Soon, it began to have little ripples on it. Once I got up in the middle of the night and tripped on a bump in the carpet. I fell on my nose. My nose is already prominent, and if I break it I’ll look like my Daddy. His nose was fine for a man, but I didn’t want that look. So, I already had the carpet re-stretched in the bedroom (the company had the gall to charge me $4.00 a square yard to re-stretch it, even though it had only been installed two years before!).

We had to repair a foundation leak last winter, and the carpet had to be pulled back. The plumbers didn’t re-attach the carpet, and after paying the plumbing bill, we decided to wait a few months for the carpet stretching. Bad move.

Last week, I took a good hard look at our living room and realized it was time to do something. Our living room was beyond ripples! It had waves in the carpet. It looked like the swells on the ocean. Surfers have been known to get orgasmic over smaller waves than we had on our carpet!

This week, I broke down and hired men to come re-stretch the carpet and clean it while they were at it. I’ve got a teenager and five cats, so you know the carpet could use that steam cleaning. Especially since my long-haired cat, Walter Mitty, is also called “Wyatt” because he “Earp”s hairballs all the time. [An aside to those of you with small children: If you get an opportunity to build your own home, have concrete floors that slope to the center. Install a drain in the middle so you can just hose the place down!]

The men explained to me that the reason my carpet had rippled was because of that “knee-kicker” installation. They intended to use a carpet stretcher on a long pole. That meant they had to brace it against one wall to push against the opposite wall. That meant I had to move every stinking piece of furniture I have! That meant, I also had to unload the closet where I keep everything the cat’s shouldn’t see. All of it had to be piled in the one room that didn’t need stretching. This particular room has no door.

For hours I dumped all my junk into that room. The men stretched the carpet and it looked lovely. Then, they steamed the carpets. ALL THE WAVES CAME BACK! In fact, it was worse than before!

As I tuned up to cry, one of the men said, “Oh, don’t worry. This happens all the time. The carpet soaks up the water like a sponge. It will dry flat.”

Liar! Liar! Pants on Fire!

My carpets are dry, and I’ve still got ripples in one room. I’m waiting for the man to come re-stretch it. For the money we paid to have this done, I’m not letting them leave even the puniest pucker. Meanwhile, my house still looks like a tornado hit it. And, the cats are having a blast messing with all the things they know Mommy doesn’t want them to have. On top of it all, I woke up this morning to find thatWalter Wyatt left me a hairball on my newly cleaned floor.

I’m not having fun, yet. But, I know you have stories, too. Comment and give me the links to those stories, so that I won’t feel so alone. And, let’s hear it, in unison: “Poor Shelly.”

[UPDATE: At 3:00 in the afternoon, the fella finally returned to finish stretching the carpet. He wasn't nearly as pleasant as he was yesterday. In fact, I was downstairs when I heard him stomp upstairs and slam his tools down. I heard them hit the wall.
Have you ever seen a charging rhinoceros? I haven't either, but I imagine that was what I looked like when I stormed up the stairs. I put my hands on my hips and glared at him with an evil look in my ice-blue eyes.
"Mister, I know you aren't happy about having to come back," I said. "I'm not happy either, and if you want to see a red-headed woman pitch a wall-eyed hissy fit, you just slam those tools against my wall one more time!" I must have bluffed him pretty good, because he apologized and was very meek as he finished his work! My carpets are stretched, my house is still a mess...but I can breathe again.]

Related posts:

1. Yoga to Relieve My Stress? Not for THIS Wimp.
2. Battling Carpet Stains
3. Fate
4. White Noise
5. I’ve Got The Feng Shui Blues

Tagged as: humor, rant