Hurricane Ida did very minor damage to our home, blowing a turbine fan off the roof to create a small hole in the roof which we quickly fixed before the new rains came. And assuming we’d be back in a day or two, we had foolishly not cleaned out the fridge so it was a stinking disaster, but thanks to my daughter’s help it is clean and almost sweet smelling once again. In other words, I have nothing to complain about, especially compared to the suffering of others from this hurricane and from all the other covid and climate disasters the world is facing.
However, I inadvertently planted a red herring in my last post by mentioning the leak in my ceiling the day we left and then never telling what I found when we came home: A large chunk of my kitchen ceiling waiting for us on the kitchen floor.
Ralph had turned off the washing machine (but not the water heater as he thought, a mistake that didn’t matter in the end). The problem was that he didn’t notice that the hose that takes the water to the drain had come loose and disconnected from the drain. When my contractor Enrique–who has finished my renovation but now considers me his customer for life and actually contacted me during evacuation to see how we were– came by to assess hurricane damage, he not only took care of my roof but in five minutes reattached the hose securely. I spent the next day deep cleaning the kitchen, a strangely gratifying chore, and we’ll fix the ceiling once we know its all dried out. Of course, pre-Alzheimer’s Ralph would have figured out the problem before it got so bad, but I have to stop relying on that Ralph and start relying even more on myself (and, thank God, Enrique ).