Because I don’t care for vague.
Sometimes, for reasons I don’t understand, other people’s vague posts irritate me. Under the aegis of “be the change you want to see,” and under the companion heading of “fuck my life,” here’s what happened yesterday:
My dad was set to finally sell his old house on Monday. It has been on the market nearly a year, sitting empty. We had to put a fair amount of money into it before it could be sold, and even though the market is terrible where he lives, he stood to get at least a little cash back if it sold anywhere close to what he was asking.
He found a buyer, an Iraq vet with a young family. He was moving there for the same reason we did 41 years ago, for a decent starter home in a nice area with access to a pretty good school down the block. His loan is part of some VA program, so there were extra inspections and some other government red tape to go through, but we all felt good about helping this guy out who has risked so much for us. I think Dad gave him a small break on the price, too.
Monday morning, the agents and the buyer met at the house for their final walk through on the way to the closing, as is customary. And upon entering the house, they discovered that a pipe had burst, probably during the cold spell last week. The crawlspace was flooded and there was maybe an inch of water across most of the first floor.
The village came out and shut the water off and we are drying out the house the best we can in February in Chicago. The sale is not yet officially canceled but seems likely to be in the next day or two, as this will take weeks or possibly months to sort out and that guy and his family need somewhere to live while we deal with contractors, remediation, insurance, etc.
Dad’s homeowners insurance company is making vague noises that maybe the house was not kept warm enough while it was idle. We provided gas bills for the last few months and will see where this goes, but that is an ominous development, indeed. I am prepared to litigate, and will do so unrelentingly should the need arise.
I didn’t need another reason to hate winter. I had all of them, or so I thought, since I didn’t think breaking my father’s heart was on the list. To the people who think I am kidding when I say I am abandoning this location forever the minute my youngest is done with high school, I would say, just watch me. You’re welcome to come and visit me in a place where the weather isn’t trying to kill me.