I'm Keeping the Vineyard

Though I don't consider myself superstitious by nature, there are a few things that make me run screaming towards my happy place. One of them is summer. A few summers ago, when my blogs were more prolific, I had drama. Lots of it. Marty Sunshine was buying Costco quanitities of wine and chocolate and rationing it out to me in amounts he thought my liver could handle. The following summer was version 2.0 and Marty wisely bought a vineyard and stock in Hershy.

Last summer, because of better tenants and random dumb luck, I only vacationed in my happy place. There was no need to cower in the corner, thinking of babbling brooks and cool mountain air--unless I wanted to. It was a nice change. However, just like Pavlov's dog, I find that I still have triggers.

One of those triggers is phone calls from any tenant at 8 p.m. on a Tuesday night. In this case, Ms.  Shirley called in a panic. Her message said "back up" and "sewage." I did what any reasonable landlord would do, I called Mr. 114--her next door neighbor.

Now, it isn't as if I didn't believe Ms. Shirley, it is just that I am hesitant to call a plumber after hours unless there is a really, really good reason. Mr. 114, the awesome neighbor he is, zipped right over and called me back 10 minutes later. He said. Call the plumber. Now!

Apparently all of the showers/tubs/sinks were backing up. And, in some cases spilling out over the hardwoods. Fortunately for Ms. Shirley my plumber is willing to show up at 10 p.m. I am sure his bill will reflect this.

As for the damage, it doesn't sound like it is enough to make an insurance claim but enough to be a complete headache. I told Ms. Shirley to get the downstairs carpet cleaned. I also told her to have Mr. 114 check out the wood floors. It sounds like the bathroom floor will need to be replaced with a nice, neutral tile. (I ask you, who puts wood floors in a bathroom?) 

I prefer not to have plumbing backups in my home. But, it could have been a lot worse. Many people who shy away from being landlords cringe at this sort of thing. I certainly can appreciate that. But, I have personally lived my own version of this very late one Thanksgiving evening.

In Ms. Shirley's case she reacted quickly. The plumber was there within two hours. It looks like a carpet cleaning and a weekend tile project for Mr. 114 are in order. Ms. Shirley is being cool about the whole thing. She isn't screeching that I have caused her unnecessary harm. In fact, she thanked me for being on top of everything. And, if that is the worst my summer drama gets, perhaps we can sell the Hershey stock.