I know, I know.
I’ve been away a long time. Readership is down, the sponsors are grumbling. Well, not really, but anyway.
I’ve been busy away from the computer as of the last few weeks. Well, for one, I was just plain out of town for 10 days. Drove up North to the land of ‘eh’s’ and Alpine to visit the in-laws. Lyn and the kids went up 2 weeks early. I drove up with the dog and hung out for a week or so, then we drove back. Alot of driving. I didn’t even take the computer with me. Good times. I didn’t take a bike either though and now that I’m back home I’m feeling it.
After all, what does one do on vacation? Nothing. Eat. Drink. Schedule some time for more nothing. Nothing disguised as sightseeing. Don’t forget to eat and drink some more.
So I got back here with an additional few pounds and found out that some sort of anomaly had occurred and it appeared that from now on it was going to be 1,000 degrees outside all the time. I didn’t think this was too much fun.
Apparently not much of the household did either. Since our return, every member of the family has been stricken with some sort of ailment. I had a cold the 1st few days back (Yes, a cold, in the 110 degree weather. Oh, the irony.) Both kids have been under the weather a bit with flu-y/cold-y symptoms. Lyn’s had muscle and joint pain and now Emma’s got some sort of cough that doctors can’t figure out – it’s either allergies, asthma, or possibly acid-reflux. I told her that those late poker nights with the girls drinking beer and eating wings would do her in, but she doesn’t listen. So hard headed.
It begs the question, “What sort of mold/funk is growing in our house?” I tend to think that this, combined with the radically high temps/humidity is the source of our ailments.
Our house (which we rent, dontchaknow) is no doubt a veritable playland of bacteria and funk, a virtual ‘viral Disneyland’ I’m sure. Why just last week a nice family of germs from South Dakota were here to take in the sights and the rides. They said they enjoyed themselves very much, liked the ‘Hairy Dog Coaster’ and said that although the people were very friendly, they’re all in way too much of a hurry and they can’t drive.
I say this because at one point it was determined – by us – that water from outside when it rained was actually leaking into the house and running amok in the walls. this was determined after one particular spot in the kitchen ceiling literally sprung a leak and upon further inspection we determined that a good 6 square feet of the drywall in the ceiling was ‘soft and/or spongy’ as if wet. Hmm. That can’t be good.
Water. Inside the walls. mixing with drywall and insulation. And of course bugs, dust, the remains of Jimmy Hoffa. It’s like a Studio 54 for germs. Anyway, we notified the landlord and they replied with a swift, proportional response.
They had a friend of theirs come out and do a little ‘creative caulking’ on the outside of the house.
Now I’m no stranger to the magical powers of caulk, and have espoused such in this very blog, but I’m pretty sure that when you have buckets of water running through the interiors of your walls, that really needs to come out, and I’m not even an expert in ‘wall funkification’.
Lyn and I debated the issue seriously:
She said, “There could be funk in the walls, endangering us and the children.”
“Well, we can’t afford to live anywhere else…”, I replied.
“Yea, I know.” She said.
“Let’s blame Bush,” I offered.
“Alright!” She replied.
That somehow made it all better. And, in all probability, if you really dug deep I bet he could in some way really be responsible.