More thoughts on The Cabin stuff.
I’m surviving, but I feel so…disheveled.
The health department said they called my landlords to ask them about the “gray water” puddle because that is completely against code.
The lady from the health department said (prepare yourselves for the shock) that my landlord acted like he had no idea what she was talking about. He said he’s seen that puddle but he thought it was from the gutter run off.
Well good thing I have in writing all of the 828934 times I’ve messaged them on Facebook to let them know that water won’t go down the drains and so on. I even specifically told them that we could see water flowing into the gray water puddle from the sink or when the washing machine was running.
(Why Facebook messages, you may ask. Because they say read on them. I know they have seen the message. They don’t respond to emails, return phone calls, or respond to texts.)
My landlord tried to play dumb and the health department wasn’t falling for it. The health department lady, who was very kind by the way, said she suggested he go to the cabin himself to check out the conditions. Mind you he will have a very difficult time checking out the gray water without any running water at the cabin, but whatever. When he told her maybe he could do that she strongly suggested he do it this weekend, and hire a plumber if he was unsure. Then she said she needs to hear back from him about a resolution on Monday.
Today my landlady wrote some kind of blog entry detailing a failed trip out of town to take care of unnamed business. Do you think it was a surprise visit to the cabin? They live a couple hours away.
Do they know that Kentucky tenant laws state they must give 48 hours notice before showing up and demanding access to the house they are renting out? I’m in the middle of moving out of a house with no heat and no running water with three small children underfoot, plus my pets have been essentially boarded there all week while we couldn’t live in the place.
Translation: It’s a mess. Nothing I can’t clean up, but just moving out makes a disorganized disaster. Let alone no water to clean up anything properly!
Moving out and packing has been so difficult due to the lack of water. We can’t go to the bathroom anywhere, and the nearest gas station is 20 minutes away.
It warmed up a little and something from the toilet is leaking and puddling in the floor. The water has been turned off all week, so I don’t know if it’s just melting ice left in the lines or if the new toilet is busted from being full of ice all week.
But who cares? Thousands of dollars of plumbing repairs are NOT MY PROBLEM! I don’t feel sorry for the landlords for one solitary moment. If they had insulated the house properly then likely every single pipe would not have frozen. It’s not normal for your toilet to freeze every time the temperature drops outside.
The ironic thing is that the cabin had a major fire a few years ago. It was caused by the wood stove. Totally preventable–the landlords lived there at the time and apparently didn’t notice that somehow a beam from the open ceiling had the stove pipe resting against it. It ignited one day. Well, the landlady told me this story:
The insurance company gave them $3,000 a month for living expenses while the cabin was being repaired. They used $4,000 to purchase an RV and live outside the house while it was being worked on. Then for the remaining number of months (6 or 7 I believe she said) they pocketed the $3,000 a month.
Now this would have given them the chance to fix everything in this cabin. It would be perfect–they could have afforded to put a foundation on it, insulate it, everything. Instead they had someone (clearly unqualified) do the very minimal amount of work possible. They didn’t even lay subflooring upstairs. They just put the carpet over the ceiling beams from the downstairs. Seriously.
So they basically decided then and there to keep the cabin a crappy poorly built place, and who knows what they did with all that money!
They keep telling me they are so poor, yet they clearly are not. Poor is what we were when I was 19 and pregnant. Poor was when Tyler only made $8 an hour. Poor is the time Tyler was unemployed. Poor was all the times we ate a $1 box of noodles or a can of beans from WIC for meals, and when we couldn’t even afford to buy Rosie a $12 pair of new shoes from Walmart. I wish the landlords would know what that kind of poor feels like.
I’m hoping we can get everything packed up this weekend. Tyler took a precious vacation day tomorrow in order to get a head start on packing.
I’m hoping to be sleeping at my grandmother’s house (with most of our stuff in storage) on Sunday.
I’m anxious to get this new chapter of our lives started, and to count down to the end goal of purchasing our dream house in 1.5 or 2 years.
I’m just so ready to be settled somewhere. I don’t want any more crazy things to happen to me. I need a break.