So much for getting control over my mornings.
Today started with a drip.
And a moan: “Oh, not a leak?!”
Leaks are bad news..
Even I know that.
“Condensation” I opined, optimistically.
Strange, though, that we had never before seen a drip from that air vent.
However, we did not allow ourselves to be side-tracked, going about routine things first.
Usually such discoveries lead to total and irretrievable disruption. Today, discipline prevailed!
When defects need attending, my best move is to keep a low profile, issuing a willing:
“Call me if there’s anything I can do.”
(and hoping there isn’t)
“You can move all your gardening shit out of the *shed so I can get access to the roof.”
*What do you call an unheated room that is part of the house, accessed only from outside?
Ours is the access for fix-it folk to get into the crawl space under the roof.
This tends to become necessary only on days of extreme temperature. Today is cold, but not very, so that was good.
In due course a ladder was trundled out and I waited, listening…
If it was bad news, I’d soon know from the sound effects.
But silence reigned till suddenly I heard a strange voice outside talking, as if to an animal.
It was FedEx with a Chewy delivery and I realised the driver must be talking to His Nibbs.
Nibbs is still “in quarantine” until we can be sure he is not contagious. Judging from his behaviour, he seems fine but those third eyelids have not quite retreated.
The boy has reverted to being the friendly soul he was before his mysterious long absence, from which he returned looking haunted and nervous, and of course he doesn’t understand why we won’t invite him in.
He sits staring at us, looking offended.
When we saw he was unwell, we decided to keep our guys in until Nibbs recovered, to avoid chance encounters, but of course that didn’t stick!
The walkers must walk, and it’s been hard keeping track of where they all are as well as watching for a sudden appearance of our young friend.
There is nothing at all wrong with the lad’s appetite and he often turns up twice a day, frequently requesting a second course.
The weather having turned cold and his eyes still not right, it has been hard to close the door against Nibbs and we have already had a couple of close-encounters when he materialised suddenly, in proximity to our guys.
What to do?
While I was putting together a belated breakfast for Nibbs, Grant started to chuckle. He had spotted the boy outside, sitting on the Chewy box.
Chuckles were a good sign, I thought, and noticing that the ladder was now indoors beneath the drippy air vent, I ventured: “So?”…
“It’s condensation. Just not sure why.”
There followed a bit of cussing as the man removed the vent cover to look inside and even more when he attempted to re-attach it.
Comments about the incompetence or slipshod attitude of the original installer.
It’s a common refrain.
The vent has now been sealed off in a most professional manner that I won’t describe and we await further developments.
Though, if I notice a puddle on the floor tomorrow morning, I’m just wiping it up and keeping quiet.
And now I’m going to put my stuff back in the what’s it called?