the house god forgot

house.

so. i have this house… this annoying little house from the 1920’s, with more twists and turns than you can possible imagine. i don’t live here all the time – which is good, i just might lose it totally if i had to do that – but, i do love being here, and as it’s only an hour’s drive from helsinki, i am here quite often.

however, just because you love something doesn’t mean you have to like it… especially not when you suddenly find your shower in your sitting room, and literally get ants in your pants when your forest becomes your loo.

me looking at house.

the other night i had a nightmare, which is weird as i don’t usually have nightmares, but these last few months i’ve had several.. anyway, it was about the house turning on me, the script for the dream clearly written by stephen king, and in the end it was obvious no-one was going to survive. i was actually so anxious after the dream that i chose to stay at home yesterday and drive out early this morning instead… being here, i can’t but laugh. or rather, it’s either that or crying out of frustration.

pipes, pipes, come out wherever you are…

bob the builder and his merry men have been here during the week, they were supposed to tear down ceiling and tapestry in the sitting room so that the faulty pipe could be found, and the dryers could come in. i can only imagine the faces on the men when they tear all down, only to find.. concrete. no pipes anywhere, only wet concrete. apparently some smart-ass back in the days hid all plumbing in between double layers of concrete.and took all drawings with him to the grave – a grave my father wanted to go and pee on for forty years, something i understand more and more every day i spend here.

all this threw me into a möbius band, much like the catch 22 i’m experiencing re london. i got on the phone with the insurance bloke, who told me he won’t make any decision until he sees a pipe and exactly where the leak is, and told me to call the dryer company, as they have agreed to take care of things. the chap there stated he can’t do squat, he doesn’t even understand where the pipes are, this house is a tad interesting… “but bob the builder has agreed to come out with a plumber to turn on the water again and see if they can locate any leaks…” so i called bob the builder who laughed “hell no, what’s the use of a plumber right now, we need to tear up the whole bathroom floor to even locate the pipes, but we can’t do that unless the insurance gives us clearance, otherwise it might get nasty for you in the end”

my solution? simple. i just booked flights to the riviera.

Tags: gerby