Remodeling Woes and Rainy Day Blues

I love a peaceful summer rain just as much as the next person, but there are times when such a day just isn’t welcomed; like when you’re in the middle of a remodeling job and the rain can’t be stopped from pouring into your house. Such is the way my morning has gone. All was great, I was relaxing with a cup of coffee, about to sit down to write a little, and it hit: that torrential rain that immediately started streaming (not dripping) into our dining area.

The window-project, where the rain was coming through, has yet to become an actual window. Therefore, it is just a boarded up hole in the side of our little abode. Yes, I admit this place was a real bargain, but the price we’ve paid in labor and ingenuity (remodeling on a shoestring budget) has been anything but cheap. We take the good with the bad, I guess. But today, with the steady (at first quite heavy) rain invading our already chaotic space, I went one little step from becoming a remodeling statistic.

Of course, in the throes of it all, the dog was in the way, the baby started crying because I was throwing things out of the way of getting wet (what were those things doing there anyway?), and, well, you get the picture. When it rains, it pours! So I lost it for a minute, called my darling husband (who I wanted to express myself to at that moment) and made sure he knew the repercussions of procrastinating. I had been asking him, insisting at times, to address this gaping hole in our home, but it had fallen in-line behind the million-and-one other things that had actually gotten finished.

Perhaps I’m a bit impatient. Maybe it’s just that I don’t like to be put off? All I know is when money is tight, but you have time on your hands, something needs to get done when you’re remodeling a space that is in much-need of repair. We had the supplies, we had the time. So why didn’t it get done? Beats me! I just know that on this particular day, the rain poured on into our kitchen hole by the gallons. I finally gave up trying to sop it all up with towels, and lined a chorus of cups along the sill; standing over them to empty each one into a bucket as they filled in record time. It was a juggling act. Never mind the dog pacing and the baby wanting…anything…everything.

It wasn’t long before the tears just started streaming down my face, and I couldn’t hide anywhere in such a small space to keep my toddler from seeing me sob. What a sight it was, and boy am I glad it’s not raining anymore. One thing I do know: If I know anything at all (which I seriously doubt at times), it is that if I have to start swinging the hammer myself, that window is going to be fixed before the next rain. Then I’ll be sitting leisurely beside my new view, watching the rain pour outside, while I’m inside…nice and dry. A girl can dream! Right?

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