In the worst way, I wanted to wipe that self-satisfied smirk off his face. Although I’d never previously resorted to violence, I instinctively knew that every court in the land, or at least in Pacific County, would vindicate me.
“The house will fall down around your ears,” he continued. “You’ll end up selling it.”
Did he really think I’d change my mind about divorcing him just to have a live-in maintenance man? Well, think again!
That conversation took place 25 years ago, and I’m proud to say I’m still living in the aforementioned home. But I’ll admit, there have been times when I was deathly afraid he was going to be right. (Granted, it would be the first time, but I suppose it could happen…)
I’ve had to hire contractors to replace/repair the roof twice, have had to exterminate carpenter ants and/or yellow jackets about every fourth year, am on my fifth lawn mower guy (through no fault of my own), and I have two plumbers on speed dial!
Yet those are the easier challenges. Despite the time lapse, I’ve yet to figure out how to permanently rid my lawn of marauding moles, and the deck railing has needed to be replaced for at least a full decade.
But yesterday’s “Adventure in Homeownership” takes the cake. (I almost shouldn’t write about it here, because I’m pretty sure the scene will magically show up someday soon in one of novels.)
Nevertheless, yesterday morning as I was minding my own business, happily at work in my home office, I heard someone rapping at the front door. At least I thought it was the front door. Yet when I opened it, no one was there.
I returned to the office, and just about the time I got settled back down to type, I heard the rapping again. I sat stone-still until it came a third time.
CRAP!! It only took me a few seconds to realize where the noise was coming from and what it meant. A woodpecker was obviously demolishing the side of my house!
Granted, I live in the woods, but doesn’t that mean the woodpeckers have the whole friggin’ FOREST to hammer holes in?! Enraged, I looked around for a weapon.
I grabbed my pepper spray and ran out the front door. Yes, pepper spray. And I admit that in my stocking feet, I stalked that little pecker head! Oh, I wasn’t going to spray him, just the area of the house he was drilling holes into. But I never got the chance.
Before I could round the corner of the house, he flew right by me and up into the trees, which was quite fine by me!
SO THERE, Mr. Ex! I defended my home in a crisis, and I triumphed! Neener-neener! The house still stands!
(Now if I could just figure out how to eradicate those moles…)