Uncle Roger's Notebooks of Daily Life
My life is, to me, ripe with frequent challenges, occasional successes, spontaneous laughter, adequate tears, and enough *life* to last me a lifetime. To you, however, it surely seems most pedestrian. And therefore, I recycle the name I used previously and call this my Notebooks of Daily Life. Daily, because it's everyday in nature, ordinary. These conglomeration of events that are my life are of interest to me because I live it, perhaps mildly so to those who are touched by it, and could only be of perverse, morbid curiosity to anyone else. Yet, I offer them here nonetheless. Make of them what you will, and perhaps you can learn from my mistakes.
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Thursday, February 23, 2006
A Chlorine Comedy, or Tuesday in Tahoe
So we get a call early in the morning from Don Starbard, the guy who built the house in which we're staying. There had been some problems -- a couple of runaway thermometers -- and he needed to bring in a crew to do some work. We knew this might happen and it wasn't a problem. So we said come on over, we'll be going out for the day anyway. He showed up as we were getting ready to leave, and followed by a mold remediation crew from Sacramento. They went off to do their thing after assuring us it was safe for us to be in the house while and after they did their work.
We had a great day of sledding in Truckee and had a bit of a late lunch at the Truckee Diner. All in all, a fun day. We even got Diane on a sled a couple of times. Eventually, we headed home for a bit of rest before a nice dinner out. We arrived back at the house just as the crew was leaving. We waited for their trucks to get out of the way then pulled into the garage. After they left, I went downstairs to see what they had done. There, I was greeted by a sight straight out of E.T.
There was a kitchen area and a bathroom that needed to be worked on. We were sleeping in the the bedroom next to the problem. Instead of putting up plastic to seal off the kitchen and bathroom only, they had sealed off that whole section of the house -- including the bedroom containing all of our stuff. Furthermore, the plastic had a big scary sign on it, warning that protective clothing and respiratory gear was needed to enter. On top of it all, there was a very strong smell of chlorine in the air.
Did I mention all our clothes and diapers and even Rachel's report cards were in there? I put in a quick call to the home's owner to get Don's phone number and rang him up. He said he'd be over to check it out in half an hour. When he arrived, he had a laugh and rang up the remediation team. He talked to them for a while, got the ok to check it out and he and I went in. Luckily, they had sealed the door to our bedroom before working, so they didn't get chemicals or mold spores in there, but neither could we get in to get our stuff. We retreated, our eyes tearing from the chlorine they used.
Well, another call to the mold team got them turned around and on their way back from Truckee. They showed up, put a zipper in the tarp over the bedroom door and we all went in like a military extraction team and pulled out all our clothes and stuff. With that done, the problem was resolved and they could be on their way once more. We moved into the other downstairs bedroom (two twin beds) and called it a day.
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