If you read yesterday's post, then you already know that the first day of repairs to fix an area of presumed dry rot on the outside of our home didn't really go so well. Well, not that it went BADLY--it just didn't go at all, because the "workers" were distracted by the USA/Spain soccer match and never made it outside! But that was okay--I didn't mind too much.
So today was the second day--the day when hopefully more would be done.
Soccer Son came over early--for him--around 9 a.m., set up all his power tools, and got down to business. As it turned out, there wasn't too much damage at all. Once the siding was off of the suspicious section, all the studs were found to be in good shape and only some minor repairs and replacement of the small section of siding was found to be necessary. Unfortunately, in the process, another random, uninvolved board was damaged.
To complicate matters, a couple hours into the job, our neighbor stuck his head out the window and asked that Hubby and Soccer Son stop making noise because he was trying to sleep. You see, he works nights driving truck. Now seriously, how can a person get anything done in the way of repairs when there's a day-sleeper next door? I feel for the guy and all, but what are we supposed to do?
So tomorrow morning, Soccer Son will return and will try to complete all of the noisy bits early in the day so as not to interrupt our neighbor's beauty sleep. Hubby and Soccer Son couldn't find a board to replace the one they damaged, and as Hubby pointed out, pulling the damaged board off would likely damage MORE boards. So I don't know what they'll do. I just hope it doesn't end up looking goofy. And Soccer Son will put a new piece of siding over what is now bare studs and insulation. And hopefully, everyone will live happily ever after.
Until Saturday. When our neighbors head out to work in their back garden at 8 a.m., turn on their moldy-oldies radio station--LOUD--and start up the lawn mower and weed wacker. And then their two tiny, yippy-yappy dogs start barking. And I wake up much, much too early for a weekend. And then I kill them all. And if that happens? At least now I won't feel too bad for having committed murder. I'm thinking that "what's good for the goose, is good for the gander" in this instance translates into justifiable homicide.