It never rains but

[vaneramos]

I heard what sounded like pouring rain in the night and thought how strange the weather has been. At 6:00 when the fire alarm went off, I discovered the downpour in my hall and living room. Some pipes had burst upstairs, and there was an inch of water standing in the middle of my apartment.

Since the upstairs tenants moved out last month, the landlord's son, Craig, has been coming to tear the place apart and repair it. It smelled so bad he would leave the windows open. Yesterday morning I woke to discover the winter windstorm blowing down the stairs, through my hall and into the bathroom. It was nearly freezing in here. I went upstairs and closed one window, but the other was frozen open. When Craig showed up, I complained, and he blocked the window with a board. Meanwhile the kitchen pipes must have frozen.

Sometime during the night they thawed. I don't know how long the water had been running or how many gallons poured through my apartment and into the store below. I phoned the landlord to come over to turn the water off. By then I was soaking wet from running around, moving everything I could get out of the way. After he came, I went to Sylvie and Sarah's for a shower.

When Sylvie met me at the door, the dam burst. This couldn't have happened at a worse time. They fed me the healthiest breakfast I've ever had (steamed sweet potato and scrambled tofu with broccoli), then I drove Sylvie to work and came home.

The insurance adjusters just dropped in. I didn't have insurance, so they won't touch my belongings. Somehow, today I have to move the entire contents of my living room, kitchen and hall into the rooms that weren't damaged: my office, bedroom and bathroom. The carpet has to be replaced in the hall and living room. The ceiling has to be replaced in the living room and kitchen.

The rust-coloured chair and couch are soaked, destroyed. Three shelves of books got hit. I had just moved my library around last weekend, so the natural history books narrowly escaped. Gardening and cook books got hit, some not too badly, but it's going to be painful to sort through them. Most of my footwear is destroyed, but somehow the coats and knitted things in the hall closet remain barely damp. There are piles of wet magazines, and a box of photographs from most of my life before digital.

Craig said he will help me take a load to the dump.

I called Dad to tell him what had happened. Mom is doing better, so it seems that stopping the morphine was the right thing to do, and it took a few days to get out of her system. Somehow I will get through this day and head down to visit them this evening before the storm hits. There's no point in me staying here for the next few days.

It's time to work.

Comments

[jwg.livejournal.com]

I'm sorry to hear about this - what a mess you have to deal with on top of everything else. And at least some rooms are dry. I hope you will be able to salvage the stuff that you really care about.

Were those the upstairs neighbors that were somewhat troublesome at times? If so that apartment seems to be bad luck for you.

[leafshimmer.livejournal.com]

How devastating this must be for you. I wonder whether this is a sign that it's time to finally find a new home for yourself? I can't believe how negligent the landlord's son was, leaving the windows open in the middle of winter!

I hope your trip home helps you get your breath back from such a loss. Glad to hear your Mom is doing better.

hugs, Shimmer

[fr-defenestrato.livejournal.com]

OMG you poor, dear man. I'm crying just sitting here reading your post. It hits home all the more because my landlord, like 6 weeks ago, came by to work on the house's radiator system, and while he was messing with one of them upstairs it busted and started draining through the floor directly over my book shelves. Few books were damaged because I was there and awake and heard the water pouring in. But the landlord's immediate reaction was to cagily disavow any and all responsibility by bringing up renter's insurance claims. Of course I don't have renter's insurance but I need to look into it.

I know money's probably the least of your worries but if you need help let me and your other friends here know. Otherwise I hope this works out quickly and painlessly for you.

[stealthpup.livejournal.com]

Yuck, yuck, yuck. Flooding destroying memory touchstones. Yuck.

I'm sorry to hear about this. Is there any chance you can take some time to reconstruct those connections, handle the items and let them remind you one last time of those old memories, before carting the damaged items to the dump?

[that-dang-otter.livejournal.com]

Oy, what a nightmare. Sorry to hear about it. It reminds me of a similar incident when I was a kid - the owner of the house we were renting installed some sort of valve backwards in the dishwasher, and we came home one day to find the whole house soaked. It was really quite traumatic. Landlords can really be quite dumb when they set their minds to it.

[rsc.livejournal.com]

Oh god, Van, sorry to hear about this on top of everything else.

Surely the landlord's insurance covers this sort of thing?

[missprune.livejournal.com]

Oh dear, Van, I am so sorry! What a disaster. Thank goodness for friends like Sylvie.

[rfmcdpei.livejournal.com]

That is horrible news. I am so very sorry that you've lost all this.

"Go after the landlord" is the only practical advice I can extend you.

[eloquentwthrage.livejournal.com]

Good gravy. Hey, Van... you're using up all your Drama Karma. Keep it up, and you'll have a nice boring rest-of-your-life. Knock it off!

[paulintoronto.livejournal.com]

Van, I'm so sorry to hear what you are going through. It must be horrible.

[roosterbear.livejournal.com]

Yikes! What a nightmare. I wish I had something more profound to say.

*hugs*

Here's to hoping that you can salvage the really important stuff.