So, after a week of being on hold and bounced around between the truly useless "automated" system at Verizon ("I did not understand you. Please choose from the following options: if you would like a coterie of farm animals, say, farm animals; if you would like to add the Nine Million Channels of Crap to your package for just $349.95 a month, say, crap; if you would like customer service, please hang up, we don't have that.... you said, farm animals... is that right?") and rude customer service (ahem) folks, our service got hooked up. Then, this week some other Verizon dude came to the house. He didn't ring the bell or anything, he just went around back and started messing around. P came outside and asked what he was doing. "Hooking up your service." Uhmmm.... we got service a few days ago. This guy was insistent that we had service coming. He was going to hook up service for a phone number we'd never heard of. And shut off the service we have. AND CHARGE US FOR IT. So, you know, we're less than impressed with them.
Then, the other morning, a sewage back up pipe-y thingie started to... you know... back up. Cause it was open, though the cap was lying on the ground next to it. P, handy guy that he is, got a wrench and recapped it. At which point none of the drains in the house would drain and the toilets went BLUB BLUB BLUB.... BLUB BLUB..... BLUB. For hours. While looking for a wrench around the house, P found a box of septic tank treatment stuff left by the previous owner. But we don't have a tank; we're on city water. Clearly, the previous owner was a moron (microbes will only eat the gunk in the tank because it's a tank. They need to hang out for a while. It don't do much good to send them zipping into the city sewer system) who obviously knew that there was some issue with the sewer line prior to selling the house. Which they failed to disclose. As they lightly capped the pipe-- just enough to vent the pipe for the inspection while having it appear as though the cap was actually on. Meaning that Mrs. S, abuser of walls (many of them have really weird scratches on them-- as though she were keeping a werewolf in the house who periodically got busy in the dining room), defiler of carpet (the carpet in the bedroom was disgustingly filthy. No, really... it was filthy), possessor of bad taste (the brass! The brass switchplates and nasty ceiling lamps! My eyes!
I include here, for your consideration, two of the lamp monstrosities that the truth-challenged Mrs. S left behind for us. The Offensive Grape Lamp is in the dining room and involves grape bunch shaped pieces of plastic dangling from a brass base (at least three levels of wrong there). The Brass and Glass Grandma Fan is currently flashing its brassy tackiness at us nightly from its perch above the bed. High on the list of home improvement projects once the unpacking has gotten under control is to Get. Rid. Of. All. Lampage, as Mrs. S could not be trusted in that aisle of Home Depot. Though the lamps did go, stylistically, with the vertical blinds (shudder... though they did make for amusement as Phil put them on his shoulders and pretended to be a car wash), the brass switchplates, and the horribly flouncy curtain bar left behind in the living room.