In the big freeze last February, my mother in law forgot to turn off the water in her house. Pipes burst, the house flooded. Everything lost except the slab and the exterior walls and roof.
She's been staying with us ever since. Thank God Almighty for alcohol because I wouldn't have made it this far, sober.
The insurance paid up, no problem there. The problem has been the absolute bottom-of-the-freaking barrel contractor. Screw ups right and left. Even so, we're damn near ready for her to move back in.
Until today.
She had granite countertops installed. They cut the opening to the wrong size, now the oven doesn't fit. No problem, the contractor says, he'll have one of his guys come out and fix it up. He did. The guy shows up, with a sawz all, and proceeds to cut the granite down to size, free-handed, in the house. It looks like hammered dog shit, and there is a quarter-inch of stone dust throughout the entire house.
Contractor says he can fix it, two more weeks.
I asked the contractor if his guy knew what he was doing, and he assured me that cutting stone is "not as simple as it looks, Mr. Snover. And if I knew that, I wouldn't have asked the question." I proceed to tell him I was, once, a card-carrying Brick layer and stone mason the day I graduated High School, as was every first born son on my Dad's side of the family since we came over from Germany in the 1770's. I could have made the same cut with a hammer and a chisel, and it would have looked better than the pics they sent me.
This was all over the phone. Which is good, I'd probably be in jail for assault, if I had been there.
God give me strength and keep the booze flowing. Two more freaking weeks!
She's been staying with us ever since. Thank God Almighty for alcohol because I wouldn't have made it this far, sober.
The insurance paid up, no problem there. The problem has been the absolute bottom-of-the-freaking barrel contractor. Screw ups right and left. Even so, we're damn near ready for her to move back in.
Until today.
She had granite countertops installed. They cut the opening to the wrong size, now the oven doesn't fit. No problem, the contractor says, he'll have one of his guys come out and fix it up. He did. The guy shows up, with a sawz all, and proceeds to cut the granite down to size, free-handed, in the house. It looks like hammered dog shit, and there is a quarter-inch of stone dust throughout the entire house.
Contractor says he can fix it, two more weeks.
I asked the contractor if his guy knew what he was doing, and he assured me that cutting stone is "not as simple as it looks, Mr. Snover. And if I knew that, I wouldn't have asked the question." I proceed to tell him I was, once, a card-carrying Brick layer and stone mason the day I graduated High School, as was every first born son on my Dad's side of the family since we came over from Germany in the 1770's. I could have made the same cut with a hammer and a chisel, and it would have looked better than the pics they sent me.
This was all over the phone. Which is good, I'd probably be in jail for assault, if I had been there.
God give me strength and keep the booze flowing. Two more freaking weeks!
