Well this weekend started out hopeful, but then I suppose most disasters are unexpected. Just when you think everything is going fine, you sit back relax and put it on cruise control then suddenly without warning, the wheels come off.
I left work friday afternoon looking forward to a long Labor Day weekend. The work ahead of me did not seem too overwhelming. As, planned I met Lupe, our general contractor. Lupe is a robust man of about 5′ 4″ in stature. His salt and pepper beard and frizzy hair make him look like a miniaturized Mexican Santa Clause. He comes off extremely likable as well. At our meeting I wrote him a check for half of the total bill, which would be used to pay for materials. He assured me that he would pick up the materials bright and early saturday morning and get started first thing Sunday. Inside the house Rob, our painter had tarps down in various rooms and had already began priming several of the walls. Yes,
I thought to myself. Everything seems to be going according to plan.
The next morning my friend Eric showed up to help me move the ramainder of our items to our rental home. The move was relatively simple since we only had a couple of trips to make. About three hours later, I gave Eric my deepest gratitude for his assistance and he headed home. With most of the moving complete, I immediately got to work on various other projects that needed to be done around the house. The painter showed up for a couple of hours and got some fresh paint up on the walls. When I noticed a few drips and splotches of paint on the trim, ceiling, and bathroom tile, I was assured that it would be cleaned up handily. So with that assurance, I happily went back to my chores.
Sunday morning arrived and with it some light showers. I called the jolly little contracter, Lupe, to see what time he had planned on coming out. Not surprisingly he informed me that it would depend on the rain. Obviously he and a fellow carpenter could not remove the siding and my back door in the rain. Well the day went on and the rain departed, giving way to the blistering heat and humidity unfamiliar to the Central Texas area. I mean, this was humidity similar to what you might find in Houston, Texas or Orlando, Florida. Finally, Lupe showed up alone. In the back of his truck were my new back door and siding, but little more. I helped him unload the materials into my now almost barren garage. The day was halfway over now, and Lupe informed me that the rain was the cause for further delay, but he would most assuredly start first thing Monday morning. With that, he climbed back into his white Dodge truck, and sped off to pick up more materials. My painter showed up a couple of hours later for a total of about 2 hours to apply more primer, but this time to the doors and trim. I continued to work on getting my home ready to sell…alone. By the end of the day, much of the work that I had hoped would be completed by my hired help remained untouched. Doubt was beginnging to set in.
Monday morning was not quite so welcoming. I got up early and went to the house. To my delight, Lupe and some day laborers were in my back yard tearing down the old siding. I went inside and began working immeadiately on touching up caulking, and cleaning. At about 9:30 A.M. my wife called Rob, our painter to see why he had not shown up as of yet. He assured her that they were getting ready and would be there momentarily. At 11:00 A.M. I called Rob. He was still at home. After expressing my concerns about the paint on the carpet, walls, brand new tile flooring and the apparent lack of effort, I finally informed him that I would not be needing his assistance anymore. Firing him was a difficult task. It is not easy telling someone that you do not want them to assist you anymore. What made it even more difficult is that he is my wife’s cousin. He is a great guy, and I love him like my own cousin. Unfortunately, this business arrangement just did not work out. I only hope that the familial relationship is not strained because of it. The stress set in all at once. What the hell was I gonna do with no painter. My house was suppose to go on the market on the very next day. The siding was just started and the the painting was worse than before the job had begun.
With half of Monday gone, I began the task of taping, priming and painting all of the doors and trim in my home. It was a slow and arduous process, but it needed to be done. You see, when we first bought the home we started replacing all of the old formerly off white (now yellowed) trim and outlets with white to match our new paint. That was years ago. Budget constraints, burn out and the birth of our daughter slowed our progress greatly (and any other excuse I can think of). The heat on Monday was even worse than the day before. A couple of hours later my wife called me to inform me that it was raining in New Braunfels, and heading in our direction. I took the information to my contractor, Lupe. He sternly told me that he would work until sundown or rain, whichever came first. We all went back to work. The rain did come and with golf ball sized hail, only a couple of hours after I volunteered the information to Lupe. My wife insisted that it would be a short rain, so Lupe loaded up the truck with the old siding he had torn down, collected money for more materials and headed to the dump. His plan, as professed to me was to go to the dump and return if the rain was finished. It was already 5:30 PM by that time and deep down inside I knew that he would not be back. I watched from my front porch as his white truck sped off down the street in the pouring rain and hail. After the rain had cleared I inspected his work. A lot had been done, new siding and the new back door hung. Only problem was the new back door did not have a handle or lock on it as of yet. That night, I slept there because some furniture and my computer were still in the house. I soon realized that I would have to take the following day off of work to paint and oversee the construction.
3:00 A.M. came quickly. I went back to sleep, but 6:00 A.M. came even quicker. I couldn’t sleep anymore so I immediately began priming and painting more doors and trim. If I hear the words door or trim uttered even one more time I am likely to go postal. I will freak out like the character Warren did in the movie Something About Mary, when Ted tried to touch his red earmuffs. At this point I was delirious and emotionally unstable. Late that morning, my father-in-law arrived in true hero fashion atop his white steed (well in this case a white Eddie Bauer Edition, Ford Expedition). After assessing the list of items that still needed to be finished, he changed clothes and together we began painting. We painted and painted and painted some more. At 9:00 P.M. we finally but the brushes down and began cleaning up. Though the job is still unfinished, we accomplished a great deal. And once again, my in-laws have rescued me from certain disaster. When I thank them, they only rebuff me with the reply, “That’s what family is about.” How will I ever repay them?