Getting in Touch with my Inner Scarlet O’Hara

Thursday morning at 3AM, my husband walked across our bedroom floor and stepped into something. Given that we have cats, he thought they might be the culprit, until he took the next step. Then it was an uh-oh moment.

You see water was coming up through the oak flooring in our bedroom.

Needless to say, we set to work looking for the source of the leak, moving furniture, and mopping up the mess. I nearly cried when I saw the oak flooring cupping from the water. We turned off the water, then lay in bed fearing the worst.

After staring at the ceiling for a bit, we called the plumber and waited. He punched a hole in our block house to get to the backyard hose bib. Then he cut the drywall to get to the rest of the pipes. He cut and seal the line so we could turn on the water, and check to see if there was a leak in our foundation.

I nearly fainted at those words. I imagined trenches dug through our concrete pad and the cha-ching of money floating away. He asked if we’d called our insurance company.

So I did. And they sent out a remediation specialist who ripped out half our bedroom floor, sprayed to inhibit any mold, cut out more of the saturated drywall/insulation, then set up these giant blowers and dehumidifiers.

IMG_0194

Then I received an email from the insurance company not to authorize work.  Um, they sent the remediation people out and now half my floor was gone. I had to wait a very long night for the insurance company to confirm, yes they covered everything once we met our deductible, but we had to pay to repair the line.

Okay, then. So now we wait for the insurance adjuster to visit and find out what they’re going to do to put our house back together. Because at this point, worrying doesn’t accomplish anything.

Therefore, I’m going to channel my inner Scarlet O’Hara and say tomorrow is another day.

An hope that day is better, and drier:D

About Linda Andrews

Linda Andrews lives with her husband and three children in Phoenix, Arizona. When she announced to her family that her paranormal romance was to be published, her sister pronounce: "What else would she write? She’s never been normal." All kidding aside, writing has become a surprising passion. So just how did a scientist start to write paranormal romances? What other option is there when you’re married to romantic man and live in a haunted house? If you’ve enjoyed her stories or want to share your own paranormal experience feel free to email the author at www.lindaandrews.net She’d love to hear from you.
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