Still counting the ways

Before it was how much I hate the moving process. Now I’m worried it’s about the actual move itself.

I realize it’s painful to sell the house that I loved so much. The house that was so much me in so many ways. The house that held the last memories of Josh. The house I lived in for seventeen years. But the house had become a prison and I needed to make a break from the house, the Dallas area, and the memories of my son. Still, there’s no denying the pain of giving up that house.

Add to that down-sizing and down dollaring. Since I decided to retire early I needed to cut expenses to make my money last. So I moved to a cheap house. The house I had been in had been such a source of pride to me. It’s hard to be in a house I think I kind of loathe. I can make it prettier, but it won’t be a house I love. And I want a house I love.

Add to that making the move in January. Not the prettiest time of year. It started pouring the day my house was loaded on the moving truck and poured all the way to Tennessee and continued to pour for days after my arrival. In my heart I thought mother nature was crying for me, trying to tell me something.

I am trying very hard to not jump to any conclusions. I factor in that February is traditionally a hard month for me – sick of the cold, gloomy weather and ready for warm weather and longer days.

But I can’t get around some of the bad experiences that I have had since moving here. Experiences that make me lean toward thinking I’m in the wrong place.

Bad thing #1

It started with a handyman who showed up on my doorstep the day after my belongings arrived. He was referred by a friend so I didn’t want to be rude, but still – I wasn’t ready for that kind of help. It was followed by three days of screwed up work that too way to long, destroyed things, and working on things when I asked repeatedly for him to leave it alone, and in the end leaving a lot of jobs I would have to redo when I got rid of him. It was a nightmare.

I paid him a ridiculous amount of money and he showed up another day only to screw more things up. It was a blessed relief when I got him out the door at 3:30. I had to rehang drywall that was done badly, replace a door he had drilled wrong for a dead bolt, finish drilling a metal door he was using the wrong drill bit on and blistering the paint. The list goes on and on.

The next day I was getting estimates from another contractor (that guy never got back to me, by the way) and he showed up unannounced and was visibly angry. It was just plain weird and inappropriate.

I week later he called while sitting in my drive demanding $130 payment for that last day. I told him he had to be kidding. I had to replace a $160 metal door he drilled wrong. I had a mess on another door that he used the wrong bit on. I had to rehang drywall that he’d done so badly. And those were the high points – there were many more problems.

He started threatening me repeatedly saying there would be dire consequences. I asked what he meant and he refused to elaborate. I was scared – he had kept one of the keys to the dead bolts he’d changed. He had access to my home.

I told him I would have to get advice and think about paying him for such shoddy work. He was livid and threatening and I was scared.

I had learned as a single mom there is a certain percentage of the male population that is more than happy to terrorize when who are alone with no man in there life. Clearly he was part of that percentage. And it frightened me.

Not to mention the utter disappointment of moving to an area hoping for good things and finding instead bloodsucking individuals who hoped to take advantage of me.

I went to the Campbell County Sheriff’s office and filed a report. Someone had threatened me and my home and I wanted someone to know in case something happened. The cop was initially skeptical but ended with telling me he totally believed what I was saying. He asked how much I owed the guy and told him $130. He laughed and told me to pay him. What a bargain to get a jerk out of your life for $130.

So I paid the jerk. Not for his work, but to get him out of my life.

Bad thing #2

A week or so later I showed up at the Campbell County Historical Society to continue my task of computerizing their library.

The wife of the aforementioned handyman is there and throws a hissy fit. She makes a total scene declaring she will not work with someone she doesn’t trust and demands I leave while she’s working there. Oh my god. It was so embarrassing.

She’s standing there in gray sweats (that’s how she shows up to work at the historical society) saying she won’t work with someone she doesn’t trust. Trust to do what? To get ripped off by an unscrupulous handyman who does crappy work?

Not wanting to cause problems I left and skulked home totally embarrassed and again thinking I just don’t belong here.

Sort of bad thing #3

I moved here and the post office refused to deliver my mail. They had changed the route and my mailbox was on the wrong side of my corned lot. They gave me 30 days to fix the problem. Geez.

I figured it was sunk in concrete and would need to be set in concrete again so I wanted help. A plumber who replaced the pressure valve on my water supply gave me the name and number of the handyman he relied on.

I talked to the man and he decided he had to come out to see what I wanted. I should have known there was a problem when I said “Hi, I’m Gale” and he responded with “I’m Mr. ????”. Not a good sign.

In the end he pulled my mailbox (no concrete) and stuck in the ground with no concrete. It took him less than 30 minutes and he charged me $50. So that works out to $100 an hour.

Okay, so I have sucker tattooed on my forehead. Nice folks around here…

So I’m having a hard time. But there are other things that bother me.