Tornadoes always happen to someone else, right? Not so much. In May the tornado that hit North Minneapolis wreaked havoc at our daughter Jen’s home, sending her 100 year- old silver maple onto the roof. We were aptly warned that repairs would take a considerable period of time, given the number of homes damaged.
By mid August the tree was removed, the interior repairs nearly complete and the roof next on the contractor’s to-do list. Problem was, he removed a handful of shingles from the roof and the tarp that covered it failed in a downpour the next day. Water poured through the roof and the house was flooded with more than 70 gallons of water on all three floors. As a consequence, her upper floor had to be completely redone and a massive amount of clean-up on the other two floors ensued. We were beginning to think this was the never ending home repair.
About that time Mike and our son Jon had just finished the repairs on Jon’s Crystal home to make it up to code for a rental license. Jon, Jess and Brynn were making plans to move into our home to care for it while we were on our mission. Jon got a call from the tenant a week after he moved in to say a daytime robbery had taken place by some neighborhood thugs. Mike and Jon spent the afternoon with the Crystal Crime Lab, followed by clean-up and window replacement.
Here on the home front, I was trying to tackle the ant infestation. The doggone grease ants that had been a nuisance in different locations all summer turned my kitchen into a war zone. Since I’m insecticide averse, they struck in the worst possible place-my food cupboards. I removed the food, having to toss much of it in the garbage. Then I gave Mike my blessing to spray at will. The fact that the insecticide didn’t have an odor really unnerved me, but not as much as the sorry little buggers I found smooshed in the can of Crisco and hiding for cover in the raisins. Ick!!
All right, since you asked, I’ll tell you what was next. Steve’s youngest son Sammy has a rare autoimmune disorder that prevents his body from absorbing calcium. He’s utterly fearless, and in a fall from the front seat of their Pilot to the floor in the back, he broke both wrist bones in his right arm. A week later his left hand was severely burned by a careless marshmallow roaster.
And did I mention nearly being run over by a motor scooter in Rome a few weeks ago?
I’m sleeping with one eye open.