Sculpin

A few years ago, we decided to put in a more useful hatch to the attic so we could use it as storage space. There’s a ton of room up there, all unused. My mother was moving from a three-story house to a two-bedroom apartment, and I assured her that she shouldn’t worry, since we’d have plenty of room to store her extra stuff. “Sure, bring it on by. No problem.”

Hah hah. And thus began a long, stupid saga of not being able to get it done. But at last we had the spot all picked out; we had some pull-down stairs; we had some expert help. There was just one thing. Josh wriggled up to the attic to move one puny light fixture, and realized that the wiring here was kind of bizarre. We decided to hire someone.

And thus did our troubles really begin: we’d call people who swore they’d show up to give us a bid, and they wouldn’t show; we’d get bids from people who swore that they’d have to rewire half the house (which is not so bad, as we’ve meant to do that anyway), and then they wouldn’t return our calls. It was almost pleasant, by comparison, to deal with the people who simply never returned our calls in the first place. Meanwhile, I was often heard to mutter grouchily about living in a storage depot. Clutter can make me crazy.

The Electrician Problem became a running joke, because pretty much anything we wanted to do around here was stymied by all the junk we own getting in our way, and getting that out of the way had reduced to an electrician problem. (“Hey, let’s make ravioli! Well, first we’ll need to get an electrician…”)

So finally we joined the Home Owners Club, which I’d heard some good things about. It was a dream: they sent out a very nice electrician (Current-Flo from Snohomish) who showed up on time in a small time window, took a look at the problem, and just went ahead and fixed it (without rewiring half the house, thanks). The Home Owners Club called us within a few days to be sure we were happy. I’m pretty sure that the membership has already paid for itself. It was incredibly easy and hassle-free.

Next Tuesday we’re scheduled to start working on getting the stairs in. Hot damn. We might actually be able to eat in the dining room again by Christmas.

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