Daydreaming of building your own home, fantasizing of hammering a few nails and brandishing a stunning sanctuary, imagining sunny days filled with painting trim as little birds tweet and butterflies flutter?
This week was one of those when you wish you lived in an apartment with no maintenance, no upkeep and someone else suffered through the torrential rains to get the darn thing built.
We got our first rain in Northern California, first time since April. Of course Mother Nature once again ignored California's rules of weather. I find it amusing that when I moved to California I was told that it DOES NOT rain between May and October - EVER, and there is a snow LINE below which it doesn't snow. Of course, Mother Nature has other thoughts and uses these as more a guideline for her events.
Hence our first major rainstorm of winter hit this week and it wasn't joking around. Saturday night Kyle and I - in the dark, laid plastic over the half finished roof of the spare bedroom in an attempt to keep the trusses dry through the anticipated rainstorm. Kyle went off to work and Sunday brought fine weather, no issues.
Then Monday came, I checked the plastic Monday morning, still in place, all okay. Checked again just before lunch, UH OH, half of the plastic is now blowing in the wind as the storm ravishes through the area bringing high winds and unrelenting rain (that is my meteorologist speak).
So I don Kyle's big yellow raincoat and boots (because I work at home I am normally in my slippers) and ran down to secure the plastic. And what an ordeal that was. Every time I got the plastic positioned the wind came up and blew it off again, every staple I shot to hold the plastic, the wind just ripped the plastic from it. The other problem, the land around the house has not been graded and so as it got really muddy and is uneven it made it impossible to sit a ladder on straight.
Then the water had accumulated and pooled in between the rafters which made the plastic too heavy to move back into place. Of course as I climbed the ladder to poke holes to allow the water to drain out, each time it drained straight down my arm and drenched my entire self. By this time I was soaked to the skin, my hands were frozen stiff and the plastic was still flapping in the breeze.
Plan B. Let it get wet. And it did.
Definitely a day of house building I would rather forget.