Homeowner's lament

This week's movie in SAM's Éric Rohmer film series was The Aviator's Wife (1981).  You didn't read my discussion of the film, did you?  No.  Because I didn't attend.

Hours before the film began on Thursday, I lost power in about two-thirds of the rooms in my house, together with all the major appliances.  After three hours, the power came back on.  But in those rooms affected, the power cycled between normal and dim.  A quick check on the internet made me concerned about the safety of my wiring, and I turned off everything in the affected areas.

While The Aviator's Wife was showing downtown, I was hunkered down in my darkened house, waiting for an electrical fire to consume all my hopes and dreams.

An electrician came by yesterday morning, and for a mere $270 told me that there was nothing wrong with my house.  I had lost one phase of power from the street, and he pointed to what he said was a loose wire on top of the pole where the wire to my house originated.  Call the power company, he said.

So I called Seattle City Light, on the eve of a three-day holiday weekend.  To make a long (and irritating) story short -- let's just say that I won't be able to even schedule anyone to come rescue me until Tuesday.  I'm now experimenting to find out how long milk at room temperature will stay drinkable.  Restaurant meals are sounding better and better.

Over the past couple of weeks, my cleaning woman pointed out that my vacuum cleaner no longer worked.  I took it in today, and learned that repair will cost at least seventy dollars.  My basement wall, where a pipe enters from underground outside, sprung a leak a couple of weeks ago.  A plumber made a stab at sealing the leak.  And my insurance company -- as noted earlier -- not only demanded that I remove moss from my roof, but also has also demanded that I repair a few steps to a side porch that neither I nor anyone else ever uses.

I'm a guy who has built his financial security -- not to mention his approach to life -- on living 33 years in the same house blissfully deferring maintenance.  I'm now concerned that these small matters are but the harbingers of disasters to come.  It reminds me of a recent cartoon where a repairman gave a young homeowner three options, the last of which was to curl up in a corner and cry at his folly for ever deciding to buy his own house. 

I can relate.

And when all is finally tidied up and repaired?  What about that earthquake -- The Big One -- the one due any moment, the one that scientists say will essentially wipe out Western Washington?  Sure, as I posted a few years ago, I've paid big bucks to have the house anchored to its foundation.  Do I really think that little makeshift bit of prevention will save my house from ... [whispered softly]  ...  THE BIG ONE??

I doubt it.  I'm doomed.