Tag Archives: gutters

Bad timing.

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When a storm is moving in and thunderstorms are threatening? That’s when my husband decides it’s a good time to start installing a barn gutter and downspout.

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How close was the storm?

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Basically right overhead.

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So when the sky opened up and rain started pouring down? There was only one thing to do…

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Pour an adult beverage and watch it fall.

🤣

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Another gutter installation goes wrong.

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Out of nowhere my husband decided this section of gutter need to be replaced. And as usual, it didn’t go well.

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When my other half works? OSHA cringes…

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And my flowers die.

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All was well until they got to the downspout.

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It was crooked.

And leaking.

And kept coming apart.

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When they reached for the screws and caulk?

I had to go inside before my eyes rolled up so far in my head they wouldn’t come back down.

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OSHA who…?

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My husband finally fixed two of the three leaking gutters he put up a while back. Although gerry rigged would be a more apt description.

The repairs involved rolled metal sheeting and so much cursing I disappeared into the house for most of it. But when I went to check the progress on the barn a few hours later….

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I marveled at the non OSHA approved stabilizing device he had employed.

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Extension ladder in fear of falling over?

Tie it to a post.

🥴

When that repair was complete, he moved onto the section of leaking gutter on the garage and gathered his tools.

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When I followed him over and saw a section of tree limb was involved? I did what any self respecting spouse would do… and went back in the house.

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Well, he tried.

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Last weekend my husband installed the downspout on our new back deck guttering.

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For some reason (Far be it for me to question his process. But I did… and was told to go back in the house) he decided to reroute the water’s path and secured the spout to the side of the corner post instead of the front.

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He was proud of how it turned out.

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And while it passed the water test as far as leaks go…

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With liquid gushing out the end freely….

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I did take issue with the placement.

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Because, call me crazy….

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But unless the rain is going to hook a 90 degree turn and drain into the pipe as it’s supposed to…. we’re going to have a mess.

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Guttering and gardening.

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The new guttering installation continued and moved to the back deck.

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Where a lovely rose I planted last year is starting to bloom.

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And since things were not going smoothly with said installation….

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I concentrated on the gardening.

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Look… my first gay feather!

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Installation complete, it was time for the hose.

The water test did not go well.

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Not well at all ….

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So…. peonies!

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And Lord Dudley Mountcatten who was watching water leak from the gutters through an open window. When the cursing started, I moved around front.

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To the old stone garden bed under the crabapple tree the previous owners had made. I added some hostas and New Guinea impatiens this year.

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And constantly wonder why they didn’t use the same size stones all the way around.

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Of gutters and baby woodchucks.

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Last weekend I was reading on the barn porch, enjoying the view of the neighbor’s farm…

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And of our other neighbor walking by….

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When suddenly my view changed.

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Because the husband decided it was time ( after I bugged him for 7… Yes, 7 years. ) to put up a gutter.

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I’ll spare you the four hour nightmare of angles, cutting, bracketing, ladder placement and yes a good bit of cursing as well…

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And get right to the cute stuff.

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A baby woodchuck.

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Make that two baby woodchucks. It’s summer and the little scampers are peaking out from under the barn. Totally adorable. And much more fun to watch than this…

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Especially since the gutter leaked like Hell the first time it rained.

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Of sarcasm and gutters.

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This store has my name written all over it.

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My husband would tell you we don’t need any more sarcasm here, but I beg to differ.

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And maybe that’s what was wrong with this month…. I didn’t make it my bitch.

Snow, rain, freeze, ice, melt, repeat.

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And by repeat…. I mean I keep repeating fix the damn gutter! to my husband so I don’t have to listen to this all day long.

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And in case you’re wondering what kind of weather we have in Maine?

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That sums it up nicely.

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She’s persistent, I’ll give her that.

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Alternate title : The Bitch is Back.

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Still on our roof.

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Still trying to chew her way back into our house.

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Look at her.

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Taunting me.

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We’ve sealed up every entry point we can find.

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But she keeps looking.

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Did I laugh when she scrambled on top of the gutter, slipped and fell in the downspout?

Damn right I did.

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The rodent revolution has begun.

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It was bound to happen. You can’t evict multiple families of vermin over the course of a summer and not expect retribution.

The other day? I spotted this:

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Do you see it?

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It didn’t look impressive, just a weed growing in the gutter. But when I asked the husband to grab a ladder and remove it?

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We realized it was more like a potted plant.

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With a large amount of potting soil.

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Half of the down spout was packed with dirt and had to be removed.

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Shaken heartily.

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And unclogged with a screwdriver.

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Piles of lovely dark potting soil were packed in there for what I can only surmise were nefarious purposes.

It was momma red squirrel, I know it.

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That bitch has been plotting her revenge ever since I chased her children out of the eaves. And if you think a rodent revolution is ridiculous?

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History disagrees.

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We don’t need no stinkin’ downspout!

 

Or so my husband said when we were redoing the deck railings.

He took the old one down and elected not to put it back up.

Why?

Oh, he mumbled something about tearing down all the old gutters and replacing them, but honestly I think he just didn’t want to mess with it. Which was fine, until rain was in the forecast and I told him it might be a good idea to put it back up.

Life would be so much easier if he listened to me…. but no.

So, it rained.

 

 

Not a lot, but enough so we had a torrent of water flooding the garden bed and sloshing mulch and dirt everywhere.

I didn’t say a word… though I might have smirked.

I mean really. How could I not?

 

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So out he went, poor guy.

 

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And naturally the downspout didn’t pop back on as easily as it came off.

Numerous adjustments were made.

 

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With a hammer and some colorful language.

By the time he was done, he was soaked and the spout was screwed. Literally and figuratively…. because he broke a piece and had to Jerry rig it.

Now wouldn’t this have been easier…. not to mention drier…. if he had just listened to me in the first place?

Men.

You never learn.