So, back in January, it was cold. Not unusual. One night, it was like 15 degrees out, but I was cozy in my bed so I didn't care. As I was falling asleep, Mr. Man came in and said something that sounded like "words words words thermostat downstairs more words". I muttered something like "that's nice dear" and snuggled under the covers. Sometime later, Mr. Man came back upstairs and said something about "words words dishwasher words water". Again, I said something incredibly witty like "oh, good". (What I really meant was "I am cozy, leave me in peace" but I am trying to be a kinder, gentler person.)
The next morning, when I went downstairs, I could see my breath in the living room. This was unusual, as the living room didn't come with a "meat locker" setting. Mr. Man asked if I had called my plumber, yet. It would seem I missed something. Evidently, there had been a leak under the dishwasher, and coincidently, the thermostat died. So, I called the plumber, who said he'd be right over, despite the ice and snow and cold. I felt bad, but he insisted.
The plumber arrived and got down to look under the dishwasher. "Huh." A half turn with the wrench and he was done. Then he asked why it was so cold inside the house. "Well, that's a weird situation," Mr. Man told him, then they went down to the mechanical room to do...man stuff. (Girl power is great and all that, but I think occasionally men like to think there is "man stuff" to be done, like back in the good old days. The division of labor in our household does not follow stereotypical gender roles. He cooks and I do yard work. I take out the trash and he picks out the pillows and the paint colors for the house. He does yoga and I play death sniper killer video games. We do what we want.)
Anyway, it turns out the water soaked the duct insulation in the floor below the dishwasher and ran over to the downstairs furnace, causing some sort of something that screwed up the thermostat somehow. The plumber said he wasn't going to charge us, but he suggested we let him call the water removal crew and see if the repairs would meet our insurance deductible. Based on what I saw, I doubted it, but I wasn't really sure what our deductible even was. (Mr. Financial Man handles all financial aspects of our lives, so I am blissfully ignorant beyond knowing where the firebox containing all the important documents lives.)
Later that afternoon, Mr. Water Remover Man showed up and said "hmmm" a few times. Then he asked who our insurance company was. Mr. Man told him, and he got this sort of weird smile on his face and said "I think we are looking at a minimum of $12,000 worth of damage, probably more. Let's call the insurance company and get this started!". Um, what? By the time my slow little brain had processed it, Mindy, the insurance lady, had a case file number for us and a list of all the damage that had been uncovered thus far. Our floor is red oak, and the entire main level of the house is contiguous. Water Guy said it was impossible to replace just the 100 square feet of damaged wood and have the stain match, so the whole main level was to be refinished or replaced. Wait, what? "Don't worry, we got a guy that does the restoration." Uh huh.
Water removal guy said he would send a crew out to place fans and dehumidifiers for both the kitchen and the mechanical area. Wait, what? (I find myself saying that a lot lately.) There was no standing water! "But there is wet wood and wet insulation. Can't be too careful." Shortly thereafter, a truck pulled up and started offloading huge fans and things I suspected were Daleks in disguise. They said they need to put 5 fans in the kitchen, plus a Dalek dehumidifier, and the same downstairs. I asked how they thought they could possibly fit all that, and still allow us to move around the kitchen. "Just watch". They put them around, turned everything on, and suddenly there was a sound similar to a jet engine and my cabinet doors were flying open. "You'll get used to it!" Yeah, right. The cats were not impressed. I had the Fan Man show me how to turn them off, "just in case".
The next day we got a call from our insurance adjuster, who was very nice. He said if the fans got to be too much, we should just go to a hotel and they would cover it, even the pet fees. Nice, but not necessary, especially since I could turn them off periodically to get some peace. I didn't mention that. He said he'd be by next week to take a look, but not to worry, we were covered and everything would be handled.That was a load off my mind.
The next week, when Insurance Guy did drop by, he pointed to the house behind us and told us his sister owned that house, but sold it a few years ago. His parents still live a few doors down. We were practically family! Then he did his inspection, showed me photos of his adorable goats (Long story), and again told us not to worry. We'd probably only have to leave for 4 or 5 days while they did the sand and refinish on the wood, but they would cover hotel and food, along with any incidentals that we needed while away from home. (They would either pay pet fees as part of the hotel costs, or kennel costs if we would prefer to go that route. As if! The cats go where we go!) Um, what? Leave...for days? No. Not going to happen. Strangers in my house while we are off at some hotel? I don't think so!
Next, we got a visit from a restoration guy connected to the water removal guy. He looked around and said "hmmm" a lot, which I am coming to believe is code for "how much can I get out of this job?". When his bid came back, it was $18,000...for a floor...that only has 100 square feet of damage. He claimed he needed to take out the built-in bookcases in the living room, replace this kick plate, that toe plate and other random things I am not sure are actually things. So, we called a company we found online that had a good reputation locally, and they sent out a guy who gave us a bid that was much more in line with what Mr. Man had figured. He never mentioned removing bookcases or any of the other obscure obstacles that raised the quote from the other fellow. This guy knew his stuff and wasn't obnoxious. We had our man. Time for the big decisions.
The problem we encountered was that our floors were currently oriented the "wrong way," which bugs Mr. Picky Man, but they could be refinished 3 or 4 more times before they needed to be replaced. That's a lot of "good" wood to throw in a landfill just to get planks that go north-south instead of east-west. However, we knew we really didn't want to deal with this again should something leak, so we agreed to do the "wet" areas in tile or something waterproof/ resistant, and just refinish the rest. This means kitchen, guest bath, laundry room, and while we're at it, we would pay out of pocket to have the sunroom and pantry floors replaced with tile. With those decisions made, we headed off to the flooring store...
And hated everything. It's all so obviously manufactured and ugly and cookie cutter and ugly and had no warmth and was quite honestly quite ugly. We finally decided we liked the slate, but the contractor said it was harder to lay and when chipped could become very sharp, Since we hate shoes, that wasn't an option. Eventually, a tile that looked very much like slate was located, but without the death and foot destruction capabilities.
We looked at every wood color under the sun, and then we looked at them again. We took samples home, only to find out we didn't really like them, so we agreed to get the tile in, and let the wood refinishers sand the remaining stuff and then we could try different stains and see what we liked. It would be up against the tile, and we could see how the light would hit the color, which actually makes a difference.
So, now we meet the tile guy.
To be continued...