We’ve hit another wall. Our plans for insulation, drywall, and everything else that makes our house look like it’s conducive to human life are on hold until we can find an HVAC person who, like, wants our business.
“I’ll get that quote to you by Friday” means “OK, your house stinks and I’ll never see you again.”
I’m sure these people are crazy busy and lacking the secretaries and energy required to respond to everyone — especially those two kids with that broken house. And I can’t blame them — I don’t do anything reliably except brush my teeth. So I sympathize. I do.
Mostly I’m just throwing a little kid fit because — have you heard? – I didn’t know — a new heating system can set you back TWENTY THOUSAND AMERICAN DOLLARS.
Do you know how long it takes me to make twenty thousand American dollars? Pardon me while I weep openly.
Underneath my little kid fit is my fear that all of this is — as our HVAC not-friends insinuate with raised eyebrows and scoffing — not worth the effort. My perpetual idealism, impulse to restore everything I come in contact with, drive to recycle, obsession with the theology of REDEMPTION, leads me to do crazy, crazy things.
Like hoarding broken things (smaller than a house), adopting mutts, and killing my herb garden —
And getting seven months into a house project, hearing the people you want to hire go, “This isn’t even worth my time,” and then curling up in a helpless figurative ball and playing dead until somebody gives my house and my project the respect they deserve. Which is going to be never.
We’ve arrived at a place in our progress that we’ve longed for since October:
all most of the old stuff is gone.
All the plaster, tile, trash, fake things, paneling, multiple floors, death-defying ceiling fans, animal feces, disease-breeding carpets, pee-stained cabinetry, permanently grease-coated appliances, and crooked stairs: gone. (All that remains of old things that need to go is the mold in the basement, which awaits hours of bleach treatment but can’t happen until we have plumbing and a drain that works. Oh, and the freezer.)
We’ve entered phase 2: new stuff. We have new wiring, walls, doorways, open floor plan, floors, stairs, and exactly one piece of drywall affixed nicely to one wall upstairs.
And we wait.
While phase two punches us in the face.
And HVAC people hate our house.
Probably they just need better theology.