…to marble bathroom counter tops and drop-in porcelain sinks. Which includes getting rid of the wall mirrors above the existing fiberglass tops and sinks. When that’s done, in a week or so, we’ll start painting the bathrooms sunshine yellow and hanging six-panel natural pine doors.
So far at the mini-rancho we’ve replaced the microwave, the dishwasher, the electric range, the AC system, and tiled the bathroom floors. Future work includes a new hot water heater to head off a potential flood from an old, leaking one. We bought the place “as-is” for a slight savings and it’s slowly becoming “as-was”.
On Friday we finally close on the sale of Rancho Roly Poly and get back some of the money we’ve spent. And say goodbye to the house we shared with Mrs Charm for twelve years and where Mr. Boy grew up.
Mrs. Charm has been sending us lots of interesting birds, but especially wrens, which we used to call our wren buddies. They are the king of all birds.
The other day at Rancho Roly Poly, where I went to run the irrigation system to keep the lawn green in case our buyer bailed before closing and we had to start selling all over again, I hung a new bird feeder.
I asked Mrs. Charm to send a wren to inaugurate the feeder. Then the doorbell rang and I went to answer it. I looked back over my shoulder at the feeder outside and saw a wren perched on it chowing down.
That was cool but what’s even cooler are the wrens Bar saw a day or so afterwards on our porch at the mini-rancho. These wrens were standing on the cushion of the chair I usually sit in, which was odd enough. But these two were going at it like we sometimes see cardinals do. Kissing. By rubbing the tops of their longish beaks together. Ah, love, ain’t it grand.
I hate it when inspectors lie, either because they’re outright cheating or just too dumb to make something work and so declare it broken. And that’s all I have to say about that. No names, no money amounts, just pissed off.
Someone, with access to an Uber account, has been ripping me off since January with $10 here and $8 there. two to four times a month. To the tune of $192 to date, according to American Express.
I have opened a dispute of the charges and, more importantly, applied for a replacement card which is due by the 31st. If you don’t examine your credit card bills for the latest charges, like I didn’t for a long time, you should begin now. You, too, may find some small Uber charges you never paid.
UPDATE: I was defrauded but it was by a relative who had the Amex number in the Uber app from years ago and “didn’t think” it was still there rather than the number of their own credit card. I canceled the dispute.
To these fine people, for full asking price. Now to await the inspection and other rigmarole before possible closing on Sept 27. Yay! Then we can give our full attention to the mini-rancho and its remodeling.
It’s tempting to get paranoid and blame leftist anti-Semitism for the theft of our mezuzah on the rancho’s front door. But since our neighbors across the street still have theirs, we rather think it was taken by one of the multiple people who’ve been in and out prepping the house for sale. One in particular who bragged she collected souvenirs from the houses she worked on, though she denies it.
If I were more observant, I would have moved it to the mini-rancho the day we moved in.
Jackie Gleason used to say that on The Honeymooners. “What a revoltin’ development this is.”***
We bought the mini-rancho “as is,” with multiple broken appliances. We knew about the broken microwave, the broken garbage disposal, the broken stove, and the broken ice maker in the fridge. We thought we were safe with the dishwasher. After all our buyer’s inspector ran water through it on one cycle and pronounced it good.
We ran soap and dishes through it this afternoon and it flooded the kitchen.
That’s because the soap dispenser is broken. It releases the soap all at once. This was not disclosed on the seller’s disclosure form. The seller gave us a $500 security deposit so they could stay in the mini-rancho nine days after closing. We’re inclined to keep the money to get another dishwasher.
Bar remembered the other thing Gleason used to say: “Hey Ed, how’s things down in the sewer?”
UPDATE***: Yipes! It wasn’t Gleason who said it. It was William Bendix in The Life of Riley, a 1940s “American radio situation comedy series…that was adapted into a 1949 feature film, a 1950s television series, and a 1958 comic book.” Embarrassing!