Last week I discovered a hole in my foundation. I could have treated this like some deep message from the universe, a metaphor for my current life. But, I decided it was really just another annoying home repair of the kind that happen because I live in an old house. This winter I found water occasionally underneath the washing machine. I assumed that is what happens when you let your teenager do their own laundry. It wasn’t the washing machine, nor the teenager….there was a hole in the wall where the snow melt came in.
I called the best handyman I know…he was going on vacation, and then booked solid through the end of September. It was time to put on my big girl panties and tackle this myself. The cool thing about being a girl, is I didn’t have to admit that I had a clue about how to do concrete repair. I took a picture, and got advice from folks on Facebook. No…I did not take the duct tape advice. I looked it up on the internet, so at least I would have some of the lingo down before hitting the hardware store. I went straight to the help desk at the hardware store and said, “Help!” They spent twenty minutes with me selecting the right kind of concrete, walking me through the process including all the safety stuff, which is something I tend to ignore. I even let them carry the 50# bag of concrete to my car….though of course I knew I would have to unload it and schlep it down the basement stairs when I got home.
This morning, I did the girl thing. I went swimming (free time on the diving boards, yay!), took a shower and put on a dress. I went to my meeting, and then out to lunch with my mom. Then I came home, threw on jeans and a ratty sweatshirt, and mixed up my first ever batch of concrete. I’m pleased to report that I used very few swear words…even when I found a dead and only somewhat desiccated mouse in the dryer vent. It was kinda fun….like playing with grown up play dough. I did it! All by myself….with a lot of help from my friends and community. I followed the safety advice. 3rd degree burns scare me. My repair won’t win any art contests, but I think it will keep the water out next winter.
Now, I think I’ll put my dress back on. It is Friday….so after I roar, I think I’ll pour myself a wee dram of scotch. Yea, I know. Girls don’t drink scotch…or roar. But this girl does.