That was so NOT cool!
So I'm sitting at my computer, on the phone with Kim (skywriter1 ), and trying to work up the motivation to clean my house. It's one of those gorgeous days where it's not gorgeous because it's sunny and blue skies and perfect temperatures, but because the sky is so grey that it makes the colors of the plants and trees so much more vibrant. Unfortunately, along with that, came strong winds. A few gusts were strong enough to shake the house, but you know, it's an old house.
Kim was in the middle of telling me a story (which I forgot... sorry, Kim) when a strong gust blew up followed by a sound like something smashed against the side of my house. I interrupted her with a loud, "What the heck!" and sprinted down the stairs. Thanks to the phone, Kim followed me outside where I scoured my yard, searching for what hit my house. I couldn't find anything. On the side of my house facing the direction of the wind, I by chance looked up and noticed a gaping hole in my attic where a window was supposed to be.
The wind blew my window out!
I couldn't find it on the ground, so I backed up to the middle of my neighbor's yard and finally saw the corner of the window frame peeking out. So it'd blown inward.
"Crap!" I said to Kim. "What am I going to do now? I can't just leave it like that. All the rain will blow into my attic and the insurance company sure as heck won't cover the water damage. They'll say it's our fault because the windows were old and we should have replaced them and blah blah blah."
"You better call Chriss," she said.
"I can't. He's in the middle of a mega-important demo. Unless somebody's died, I can't interrupt it."
Kim thought for a moment because she knows about one of my many fears: basements and attics. I hate them. Unless it's a finished basement or attic that someone uses as a bedroom or family room, I do everything I can do avoid them. Why? Spiders. I am terrified of spiders and I can't go into a basement or attic without my skin and scalp itching from the fear that something is crawling on me. It doesn't help that our basement is full of spiders and webs and our attic has it's share of webs too. Oh, and crows. We have crows that find their way into the attic. (Don't laugh, please! Yes, I know I'm a chicken and this is probably a ridiculous fear, but nonetheless...)
"What about your neighbors?" she asked.
I went back around to the other side of the house and sure enough, both their cars were in the driveway. YES! They'd help me. They are the world's most awesome neighbors, after all. I told Kim I'll call her later and hung up. Then I knocked on my neighbor's door. No answer. I went back inside and called them but just got the machine. I left a message and then searched my mind for other solutions just in case they weren't able to get back to me. I had to hurry because it was starting to rain again.
I couldn't get a hold of anyone else I called which meant I was going to have to suck it up and deal with my fears. First, I ran upstairs and pulled my hair back and put on a ball cap in hopes it'd reduce the amount of scalp itching. (It didn't) I called Kim back and made her stay on the phone with me as I ventured down into the basement in search of duct tape. I figured I'd just tape garbage bags over the window until Chriss could get home and fix it. I had to take several deep breaths and Kim had to work real hard to encourage me, but I finally went down the basement steps. I kept my back hunched, my arms close against my sides, trying to make myself as small as possible and not touch anything. I quickly scanned the basement, staying down as long as I could without having a panic attack and couldn't find the tape. Couldn't find it in the garage either.
So I grabbed a roll of packaging tape. Better than nothing, right? It was time. Phone to my ear, bags and tape in hand, I went upstairs and opened the attic door. The stale, musty smell of attic, dead birds, bird poop, and who knows what else slammed into me. I reached for the lightswitch and about had a heart attack when I brushed against a cobweb. Kim said she could actually hear my heart racing over the phone.
It took another full minute to take a deep breath and force myself up the very narrow stairs. Using one of the bags as a barrier between my hand and the rail, I climbed the steps, my legs shaking and breathing growing rapid the whole time. At last, I made it up, getting my first glimpse of our attic. (We've lived in this house for 5 years and I've never gone up there before today).
It was much emptier than I'd expected it to be. And, thank goodness, there was a floor covering most of it. I scurried over to the fallen window and was relieved to see the glass was intact. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of looking out the gaping hole where the window belonged and had to fight a dizzy spell. That's when Kim learned another of my major fears: heights. It wouldn't have been so bad but there was that huge hole and it was so far down and I was so close to it. By this point, Kim had remind me not to hyperventilate and just get the job done so I could leave.
Working really hard to keep calm and ignore the feeling of things crawling on me, I picked up the window and tried putting it back in. No sooner did I squeeze it in than the wind blew it right back out. I just barely caught it. I tried a few more times and it didn't work. So then I held the window in place and tried to tape the bags over it. Not only was the wind working hard--and almost succeeding--to push the window free in spite of my hand, but the bag didn't fit! It was too small. I tried to make it work anyway, but the tape wouldn't stick to the wood. It kept splintering off.
Great. Now what was I going to do? I couldn't just leave the window wide open. Rain was already blowing in. So I tried putting the window back in again and then resting a Rubbermaid bin against it. That didn't work. I looked around, desperate, and found a very tall box filled with stuff next to the stairs. I approached with caution, praying no spiders would crawl out from the box and onto me the moment I touched it.
It was at this moment that Kim disappeared. My phone had died. I couldn't help it. I started screaming out my version of obscenities. (Fudge! Crap! This sucks! I hate this! Get me out of here!) I can't help but think now about how the hero or heroine of a book usually has to face their biggest obstacle by themselves. I wonder if this was karma's way of getting me back for being so mean to my characters. Whatever it was, I have a newfound sympathy for them.
A panic attack hit and it was all I could do not to race down the stairs to safety. I was nearly hyperventilating and definitely in tears as I dragged the box (which was covered with ash or dirt or something) over to the window. I once again put the window back in and then, before the wind could blow it back out, I shoved with all my might against the box and brought it as close to the frame as I could. The wind still blew the window back out, but it's at least leaning against the box now and instead of a huge gaping hole, there's only a 2 inch gap at the top of the window for the rain to come in. Not perfect, but better than nothing. It'll hopefully reduce the amount of damage done until Chriss can fix it.
That done, I grabbed my roll of tape and rushed to the stairs. Unfortunately, they're so narrow that I had to hold onto both sides of the wall, brushing against cobwebs, the whole time. I almost fell three times. At the bottom, there was a moment when I thought for sure I'd have a heart attack because I couldn't get the door to open. But finally it did and I burst out, flipped off the light, slammed the door behind me, and kicked off my shoes.
Even though I was completely out of breath and shaking horribly, I called Kim back and let her know what happened. My neighbor beeped in and apologized for missing my message. Her husband was unavailable, but she offered to help until I told her what I'd done. She couldn't think of a better temporary solution so I thanked her for offering and hung up. Then I called Chriss and left a message for him letting him know that he owes me BIG time and why. This was followed by a call to my mom to see if I could throw my ball cap in the washer. We decided it was best to wash it by hand. By that time, my panic had mostly subsided and I threw all my clothes in the wash and took a shower. I scrubbed my skin and scalp raw, trying to get rid of that creepy-crawling feeling. I'm feeling much better now, but I do not want repeat that experience again.
It stopped raining again so now I just need to hope it'll stay that way until Chriss can fix things. I think it's safe to say that my house isn't getting cleaned today. After that ordeal, I think some time on the couch with a good book is in order.
Kim was in the middle of telling me a story (which I forgot... sorry, Kim) when a strong gust blew up followed by a sound like something smashed against the side of my house. I interrupted her with a loud, "What the heck!" and sprinted down the stairs. Thanks to the phone, Kim followed me outside where I scoured my yard, searching for what hit my house. I couldn't find anything. On the side of my house facing the direction of the wind, I by chance looked up and noticed a gaping hole in my attic where a window was supposed to be.
The wind blew my window out!
I couldn't find it on the ground, so I backed up to the middle of my neighbor's yard and finally saw the corner of the window frame peeking out. So it'd blown inward.
"Crap!" I said to Kim. "What am I going to do now? I can't just leave it like that. All the rain will blow into my attic and the insurance company sure as heck won't cover the water damage. They'll say it's our fault because the windows were old and we should have replaced them and blah blah blah."
"You better call Chriss," she said.
"I can't. He's in the middle of a mega-important demo. Unless somebody's died, I can't interrupt it."
Kim thought for a moment because she knows about one of my many fears: basements and attics. I hate them. Unless it's a finished basement or attic that someone uses as a bedroom or family room, I do everything I can do avoid them. Why? Spiders. I am terrified of spiders and I can't go into a basement or attic without my skin and scalp itching from the fear that something is crawling on me. It doesn't help that our basement is full of spiders and webs and our attic has it's share of webs too. Oh, and crows. We have crows that find their way into the attic. (Don't laugh, please! Yes, I know I'm a chicken and this is probably a ridiculous fear, but nonetheless...)
"What about your neighbors?" she asked.
I went back around to the other side of the house and sure enough, both their cars were in the driveway. YES! They'd help me. They are the world's most awesome neighbors, after all. I told Kim I'll call her later and hung up. Then I knocked on my neighbor's door. No answer. I went back inside and called them but just got the machine. I left a message and then searched my mind for other solutions just in case they weren't able to get back to me. I had to hurry because it was starting to rain again.
I couldn't get a hold of anyone else I called which meant I was going to have to suck it up and deal with my fears. First, I ran upstairs and pulled my hair back and put on a ball cap in hopes it'd reduce the amount of scalp itching. (It didn't) I called Kim back and made her stay on the phone with me as I ventured down into the basement in search of duct tape. I figured I'd just tape garbage bags over the window until Chriss could get home and fix it. I had to take several deep breaths and Kim had to work real hard to encourage me, but I finally went down the basement steps. I kept my back hunched, my arms close against my sides, trying to make myself as small as possible and not touch anything. I quickly scanned the basement, staying down as long as I could without having a panic attack and couldn't find the tape. Couldn't find it in the garage either.
So I grabbed a roll of packaging tape. Better than nothing, right? It was time. Phone to my ear, bags and tape in hand, I went upstairs and opened the attic door. The stale, musty smell of attic, dead birds, bird poop, and who knows what else slammed into me. I reached for the lightswitch and about had a heart attack when I brushed against a cobweb. Kim said she could actually hear my heart racing over the phone.
It took another full minute to take a deep breath and force myself up the very narrow stairs. Using one of the bags as a barrier between my hand and the rail, I climbed the steps, my legs shaking and breathing growing rapid the whole time. At last, I made it up, getting my first glimpse of our attic. (We've lived in this house for 5 years and I've never gone up there before today).
It was much emptier than I'd expected it to be. And, thank goodness, there was a floor covering most of it. I scurried over to the fallen window and was relieved to see the glass was intact. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of looking out the gaping hole where the window belonged and had to fight a dizzy spell. That's when Kim learned another of my major fears: heights. It wouldn't have been so bad but there was that huge hole and it was so far down and I was so close to it. By this point, Kim had remind me not to hyperventilate and just get the job done so I could leave.
Working really hard to keep calm and ignore the feeling of things crawling on me, I picked up the window and tried putting it back in. No sooner did I squeeze it in than the wind blew it right back out. I just barely caught it. I tried a few more times and it didn't work. So then I held the window in place and tried to tape the bags over it. Not only was the wind working hard--and almost succeeding--to push the window free in spite of my hand, but the bag didn't fit! It was too small. I tried to make it work anyway, but the tape wouldn't stick to the wood. It kept splintering off.
Great. Now what was I going to do? I couldn't just leave the window wide open. Rain was already blowing in. So I tried putting the window back in again and then resting a Rubbermaid bin against it. That didn't work. I looked around, desperate, and found a very tall box filled with stuff next to the stairs. I approached with caution, praying no spiders would crawl out from the box and onto me the moment I touched it.
It was at this moment that Kim disappeared. My phone had died. I couldn't help it. I started screaming out my version of obscenities. (Fudge! Crap! This sucks! I hate this! Get me out of here!) I can't help but think now about how the hero or heroine of a book usually has to face their biggest obstacle by themselves. I wonder if this was karma's way of getting me back for being so mean to my characters. Whatever it was, I have a newfound sympathy for them.
A panic attack hit and it was all I could do not to race down the stairs to safety. I was nearly hyperventilating and definitely in tears as I dragged the box (which was covered with ash or dirt or something) over to the window. I once again put the window back in and then, before the wind could blow it back out, I shoved with all my might against the box and brought it as close to the frame as I could. The wind still blew the window back out, but it's at least leaning against the box now and instead of a huge gaping hole, there's only a 2 inch gap at the top of the window for the rain to come in. Not perfect, but better than nothing. It'll hopefully reduce the amount of damage done until Chriss can fix it.
That done, I grabbed my roll of tape and rushed to the stairs. Unfortunately, they're so narrow that I had to hold onto both sides of the wall, brushing against cobwebs, the whole time. I almost fell three times. At the bottom, there was a moment when I thought for sure I'd have a heart attack because I couldn't get the door to open. But finally it did and I burst out, flipped off the light, slammed the door behind me, and kicked off my shoes.
Even though I was completely out of breath and shaking horribly, I called Kim back and let her know what happened. My neighbor beeped in and apologized for missing my message. Her husband was unavailable, but she offered to help until I told her what I'd done. She couldn't think of a better temporary solution so I thanked her for offering and hung up. Then I called Chriss and left a message for him letting him know that he owes me BIG time and why. This was followed by a call to my mom to see if I could throw my ball cap in the washer. We decided it was best to wash it by hand. By that time, my panic had mostly subsided and I threw all my clothes in the wash and took a shower. I scrubbed my skin and scalp raw, trying to get rid of that creepy-crawling feeling. I'm feeling much better now, but I do not want repeat that experience again.
It stopped raining again so now I just need to hope it'll stay that way until Chriss can fix things. I think it's safe to say that my house isn't getting cleaned today. After that ordeal, I think some time on the couch with a good book is in order.