Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Old House

Yesterday on my lunch break I went to the old house with plans to start tagging stuff for a garage sale. A leaky water heater decided otherwise.

The water heater had been slowly leaking for the past year, pretty much since before I fixed it when it needed a new thermostat and element. However, the leak was more like water buildup around the base and easily remedied by a quick toweling every now and then. Seeing a stream of water come out of the garage when I pulled up to the driveway made me assume the worst, but fortunately it looked like it had just started to leak out.

So I moved the stuff aside to get it all out of the water’s path and called my husband to tell him the news. He was not amused. I also noticed that our lawn chairs, some of which we were planning on keeping had been taken as well as the old umbrella. A quick peek over the fence to the neighbors behind us found them in their lawn. While it doesn’t bother me that they had them, it was still bothersome they took them, but oh well. More junk we don’t need. Besides, I had a goal to drain the water heater and needed to locate the hose in the jungle formerly known as our backyard.

As I was pulling and yanking the hose I wanted to use, it became quite obvious it wasn’t coming out without assistance, mainly of the weed and grass removal type, so I abandoned both of the non-kinking hoses in favor of the one I could actually get to. By the time I attached it to the water heater to drain it, I decided I wanted nothing to do with pricing crap to sell. I was far too pissed. Pissed at the fact that the water heater started leaking. Pissed that someone took our stuff, even though it was stuff we’d probably end up selling anyways. Pissed that we were in the situation we are in. I’m ready to move on, and the more I go over there the more I find myself both wishing we never had to move in the first place while at the same time I never want to go back there again.

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