I left Raleigh yesterday, got up at 4:00 to make the flight, first to Charlotte, five hour layover (joys of booking last-minute travel in August), arrive down here mid-afternoon. All I could think of was how great it was going to be, having one day here at the beach to myself, the solitude and quiet and air and surf, before Isabella arrives tomorrow from CA.
I pulled into my drive, and there in front of me were FOUR REPAIR TRUCKS. And a lot of very sweaty men.
Apparently our main a/c unit – we are on water-to-air system – decided to pack it up, and do so in a truly spectacular fashion. The main pipe feeding from the pump to the unit, which is in our garage, has been eaten away by the heavy sulphur content in our groundwater. It blew out. Think of an oil derrick geyser, only stinkier.
The one saving grace is, our cleaning lady who comes once a week decided to do a quick clean before our arrival so we could have a quiet week without anybody coming by (HA!). She arrived yesterday morning to discover water pouring out of both garage doors.
So I came home to no a/c, no water, and eleven industrial blowers drying out the downstairs, which had an inch of water throughout by the time the repairmen got there. I can’t park my car out of the sun because the garage is filled with our furniture. And all the baseboards, which have been torn out so the blowers can hopefully save the drywall before the rot sets in.
The a/c guys are due to show up here at ten, and the professional home-dryers (only in Florida) will be here at one. My sweetie’s office is one mountain of books, shelves, computer stuff, and everything that was in her closet. The whole house vibrates from the blowers.
Oh. And there’s no surf.
It’s great to be home.