Busier Than a One Legged Man in an Ass Kicking Contest

.... as my mom used to say. Alternatively, busier than a one-armed paperhanger. Yes, it is odd that her analogies all included amputees. No, I don't know why.

Anyway...things have gotten crazy around here. Real crazy, real fast. I have four unexpected houseguests (my mother-in-law, sister-in-law, and her two children) through christmas. I have my floors being replaced. I have contractors of all descriptions crawling all over the house. Every time they look at anything they discover new levels of horror and destruction.

Frankly, I just don't have the strength at the moment, but now I am looking at replacing all the rafters on the north side of the house because the roofers who gave us a new roof four years ago didn't tell about serious rot problems and just covered it all up with new sheeting. The gutter-guys found it all when they started their job.

Now my husband is home, which is good in some ways, because he needs to be in decisions of this magnitude. He would never ever believe me if I were just telling him about it all: but of course he believes the contractors. Let's hope he believes them when they tell him how much damage he did with his stupid foam. It's bad in other ways because he wants to stop all the work until he gets things straightened out with the roofers.

He thinks (and to e fair, the gutter guys also think) that the roofing company should be paying for the rafter repair. But I doubt they will volunteer to; we may even need to go to court I'd really rather not, chalk it up to bad luck, and badmouth them all over town. But Homero insists on at least trying. So now the job is stretching out for weeks.

Wish me luck, y'all, and think long and hard before you buy that cute old farmhouse.