Walking in the Spiderwebs
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
It’s that time of year again. The time of year when we look around us and say, “Hey, I think we’ve lived here long enough. Let’s put all our stuff into boxes and move it to a new dwelling.” I suppose I should just be thankful we’re not living in yurts and drinking fermented goat milk (and people say my east Asian studies degree is useless!). But seriously, this will be our seventh {seventh!} move in six years of marriage. I am bone weary of doing the whole moving thing.
This time we’re moving to the town where our church and B’s office are. I’m glad we’re moving there because it will simplify life for us in so many ways. Our new place is about 3.5 miles from B’s office, and only a little farther from our church, which is going to save us a ton on gas. We were driving a half hour to and from church and/or B’s work. And now we’ll be closer to most of our church friends, and hopefully will be able to be more social.
The downside, however, may be the place we’re moving into. It’s a town home, which means a yard for Mia to play in, and it’s a really good size--both pluses. But we spent the weekend cleaning the place and moving some things over, and we discovered a handful of little (well, and one not-so-little) things that really make me question what kind of guy our land lord is. I’m still a little gun shy of private land lords vs. corporate ones (i.e. apartment complexes) after a really bad experience in Panama City, and this isn’t making me feel any better. First of all, I remember feeling a little leery when the guy showed us the place. He talked a lot and he spoke really fast. And sweated a lot. Granted, he’s on the hefty side, which could explain the sweat, but if my vast spy knowledge (gleaned from Alias, 24 and most recently, Get Smart) serves me correctly, all those things together = someone who has something to hide.
While showing us the very musty-smelling basement, which at that point in time had carpet pulled away from a wall that was being repainted, he assured us that the basement had no more moisture than a normal basement, and it only evidenced itself in the musty smell. A dehumidifier would do the trick, he said. Well, this weekend when we showed up to start moving in, the carpet had water-stains against the newly-painted wall and it was wet to the touch. Brilliant.
That was the not-so-little thing. The little things were a non-working shower head, the general dirtiness of the place (emphasized by toilets that were both mildewed and stained with human waste), and spiders EVERYWHERE. The place hasn’t been occupied in a couple years, we learned from an inside source (who was actually reluctant to tell us anything because s/he doesn’t get along with our land lord--wonderful news). And as I was scrubbing everything that could be scrubbed with copious amounts of bleach products, I wondered why a land lord would let a place that they were actively trying to sell and/or rent go so long with out having it cleaned? I mean, how hard is it to hire a maid service every couple months? Not hard! That is a giant pet peeve of mine: people who do not take care of their property and/or responsibilities. If our land lord is that kind of person, B better be the one doing the maintenance calls because I’m not very good at being diplomatic (ironic, considering I once had aspirations of working in an embassy—God sure knew what He was doing when He put the kabash on that one).
Hopefully, once the basement issue is taken care of, and the shower is fixed, the place will perk up just by virtue of being lived in once again. And hopefully the spiders will all find homes other than the room my sister will be living in (sorry, Moo--your room is one big spider-riddled cobweb right now, but I’m working on it! No quarter will be given to any eight-legged beast in there, I promise you). And hopefully the skunk living next to our garage will move on. Yes. Hopefully.