Moving into a new house is much like a marriage of the Mail Order Bride variety I find. I think you kinda pick your bride by the way she looks and you imagine the life you will have with her and you pay the “Bride Price” to the Matchmaker/realtor and off you go to the wedding ceremony/lawyers. She looked really lovely when you first laid eyes on her but at closer inspection you notice that she has this wart right in the middle of her forhead. How did you not see that before? Er, and how ‘bout that hair growing right out of the middle of that wart, ew! Really, how were you to know about the ingrown toenails? Did you even think to take off her shoes before you bought her? Then there is that strange smell coming off of her after you have said your “I do’s”/taking on the mortgage. Was she really doused in that much perfume/carpet freshener? But there you are standing with your bride, holding hands… oh wait! Her hand is not in yours it’s in your wallet and there it firmly remains.
The first concern for us was the carpet downstairs. We stood in the empty room and tried to envision our furniture there and where is would go. The place had been vacated a scant 24 hrs before our arrival when the smell of cat pee hit us. What’s this? I say wrinkling my nose. Perhaps it’s the smell of Jungle Rot, after all we are surrounded by it. Ah, no. Upon closer inspection we find the badly stained carpet has taken on life of it’s own and is shifting under our feet like a giant animal. Ok, that must go! Sure enough there were areas that were so badly marked by their pet that the subfloor was rotting. Actually there is no subfloor. Building codes (and I use that term very loosely) are different here. Just kinda picture a giant Mobile home with no insulation and wires and piples dangling under your “bride”. They are not too concerned with winter freeze apparently although it does get bloody chilly in here at night. Shayla asked me the first morning while wearing 3 layers of clothes and her toque if we really meant to buy a house with no heating or did we not know this like it was something else that the Matchmaker failed to mention to us about our betrothed. I explained that no house in NZ has central heating and that’s why we find those nifty little space heaters wherever we stay. In fact, we did buy one and Ronin had draped himself across it that morning trying to get warm. Clearly we will be needing more of these though. (kah-ching!)
So, ok. We need new flooring in the basement and some space heaters, not bad though, right? Er well the bride did not have a dowery that came with a washing machine AND the dishwasher cacked apparently days before we bought her
I have my own bathroom here. Such a princess that I am and I head there with my retrieved toiletries from my suitcase and turn on the shower, load up my toothbrush, and wait for the water to turn warm.. and wait, and wait. Standing there naked and cold I start to fiddle with the one control knob. Cold water is streaming out. Turn it the opposite direction, colder water. Put it in the middle –hot water. Boiling hot water. Grrr! Inching throttle of water back and forth trying to find happy medium. Maybe, if I got in there I could read the tap and figure it out. Now searing hot water is pouring on me and I am shrunk to the side of the shower dancing to keep my feet from burning , trying to adjust the tempreture. The water is rising from the drain and forming a pool 3 inches high. I finally give up. Collect my belongings and drip over to the kid’s bathroom who have a tub and shower head. Ok, well I get the temp just right, organize my cleaning supplies and hop in. Try pulling the lever to activate the shower and Whoa! It pops off in my hands. I fiddle with this muttering “come on, come on… get back on there you bitch!” Throw knob on floor and get out (again) and Shiver my way downstairs to Chris’s place. Now I know this shower must work as he took one before he left this morning. Turn it on water comes out (check!) adjust temp to warm (check) throw all my toiletries in there on the floor, no shelves. Get in and have 3 streams of water drip on my head. Come ON!! Seriously? WTF did these ppl do for showering around here??! While waiting for the Chinese Torture device to soak my head I reach for my loaded toothbrush and find out that the paste is missing. Somewhere in my travels from room to room sits a gob of toothpaste on the cat pee carpet. I am pissed. What more can be wrong with this place?
Turns out that the toilets are not the best either. Everyone is so water conscious that these low water things are only good for swirling the TP around the bowl and creating paper patterns if they don’t have enough suction. Our thinking is that there may be a clog in one of the drains..er re-read about my shower. We have dumped a half a bottle of liquid plumber down there and now we wait and see.
It's been days and $$ since I last wrote about my water issues people. Things are really looking up! We now have running hot water in all the showers and have replaced the pull on the kid's shower with an attractive set of pliers *much* easier to work now. The toilets are on on going issue and we are spending some time looking into the mechanics of how these animals work. Like most house construction around here there seems to be little rhyme or reason for how things are put together. Our blushing bride is in much need of some plastic surgery to update her look and I am getting brochures of paint and paper to see her right.
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