God has healed the hot water heater

I can explain it in no other way. The last time we saw the hot water heater, there was water steadily seeping out from under it, all over the floor and under the door and -- luckily -- draining into the sump pump. The repairman looked at it and said it needed replacing. So we drove up yesterday to turn it off and find a way to drain it. But when we opened the door, there was no water at all on the floor. We ran the faucet and got nice steamy hot water. And we kept checking back off and on all day, and no water leaking. It has healed itself, or there has been a major miracle for the McKendry family. Prayers of thanksgiving for tender mercies.

So we set about trying to do some other small tasks on our list. But the weather stripping we brought was wrong and held the door open, so we couldn't install it. We brought the wrong size drill bits and couldn't bolt together a frame we were making. The glass globe we brought for the outside light was the wrong size. We tried to phone our contractor about a problem with our eavestroughs, but couldn't reach him. After a while, we were laughing. What else should we not do while we're here?

Finally, just so we could say we'd accomplished something, we went and bought fibreglass batting and put together one of the fake walls we're constructing to block the stairwells, to keep cold air from coming down from the sanctuary this winter. So we did get that done! A half-hour project to justify the 4-hour drive and tank of gas.

We headed home that afternoon (leaving behind the full yard bag we meant to bring back with us) and stopped at an A&W on the way to grab a burger -- but it was so overpriced at the En Route that we decided to skip it and just eat when we got home. Another thing not done!

A Soggy Saturday, Stairs, and a Story

Rain for the past week. We're putting to the test all the waterproofing we did on the foundations. Fingers crossed that it's working.

Running to the church today just to turn off the hot water heater (still leaking) and hopefully figure out how to empty it without destroying the sump pump. Hubby thinks we can syphon it, running the garden hose from the tank, up the stairs, and outside. I'll leave the physics of it to him. He's very good at looking at a problem, mulling it over for a day or two, and coming up with about eighteen solutions.

Hayters has fixed the location of the propane line and the thermostat (which is on back order), so at least the propane company can come inspect on November 3, but it will be a couple of weeks after that before we get the actual propane. Hopefully. If there's any mercy in this universe. The temperatures are dipping toward freezing.

Whenever we make the drive, Hubby and I stop at the En Route outside Woodstock or Cambridge for a quick break, and inevitably we return to the car with junk food. Today I'm determined to kick that habit. All this driving isn't just expensive, it's also fattening. Though you'd think I'd burn off all those extra calories hauling gravel, building temporary walls, and running up and down all those stairs.

Have I explained about the stairs? When you approach the church, you can either go up the cement steps to the front door, thus accessing the foyer, sanctuary, and bedroom (and up further stairs to the balcony). Or you can go to the side of the church and enter on ground level. Going in the first side door, you are given the choice of going up some short stairs to the main level or down stairs to the basement, where you will find the rec room, kitchen, laundry, and utility room. But halfway between the two floors is the bathroom, accessible by stairs going up from the rec room or down from the bedroom. And there's a second side door that enters on the level of the bathroom, so when you're standing at that door, you have a choice of the stairs to the bedroom or to the rec room and yet more stairs going up to the sanctuary. So you have stairs at the front of the building and stairs at the back of the building, and all of them are narrow and steep, and some of them double back on themselves, making furniture installation next to impossible. My personal favourite staircase is the curvy one going up to the balcony, because there is a stained glass window on the landing that casts a beautiful glow through the stairwell.

As I typed that last sentence, I made a typo and wrote "stained glass widow." And instantly I got a plot in my head for a story about a woman who turns to her hobby of stained glass after the death of her husband, and she's moved to a small rural village where no one knows her, but someone from the city has followed her with dark intentions... Hmm. People ask me sometimes where I get my ideas for my books, and it's stupid little things like this--typos, of all things. Must sit in the balcony and develop the plot!

Tuesday Update

 Hayters say the hot water heater needs replacing. I managed to find an internet company (Brooke Telecom) that will service our location. At the end of the month, we will rent a van and haul up our extra couch and bed and some other bulky items, but we'll probably set up camp in the heated bedroom and not try to live in the rest of the building so long as we don't have propane.

Meanwhile, I got an unexpected bonus at work that is meant to go toward setting up my home office and making working remotely more comfortable (isn't that amazing?). But I don't think they'll let me use it to pay for internet or a hot water heater, so I may end up putting it toward the bookshelves I want for the balcony. I can't bring books up to the church until we get the dehumidifier running, though.

The trees are turning lovely fall colours. The two maples by the church are my favourite salmony gold-red. The leaves are clogging the eavestroughs as they fall, and there's a small gap in the soffit that I'm sure will house a squirrel this winter. But I still love this time of year, the cozy snuggliness of it, the freshness in the air, the smell of the leaves. I'm actually looking forward to huddling around the space heater with my Hudson Bay blanket.

 

A busy couple of days and a disappointment

 So my husband and I arrived at the church Thursday night to find the sump pump dead and the hot water heater leaking. And of course, the propane company we were going to go with, Superior, has decided our gravel driveway isn't good enough so they won't deliver to our address, so all that gravel was not needed after all. So we've cancelled the contract and found a different propane company, but their tanks are on back order so we won't have heat until probably late November. Luckily we have some electric space heaters, so we were able to keep the bedroom and bathroom toasty. I just hope it doesn't get so cold that the pipes might freeze. They're getting snow north of us.

Friday we met with the furnace people, Hayters, who will fix the gas line location and the fancy-dancy thermostat that isn't working (which is why the dehumidifier wasn't working). We also met with the two window companies, who measured for the windows that won't be installed until spring. Hubby bought and installed a new sump pump and rigged up a hose to drain the leaking water tank into the now functioning sump pump. I bagged up the spirea I cut down on the last trip (seven more yard bags to haul home).

I also walked down to return a book to Paul and Mary and had a nice chat. Such friendly and educated and interesting people! I love the walk to their house, as it goes past the goats and some beautiful fields lined with autumn trees. It was sunny, and the air was warmer outside than in the church.

The main reason I went to the church this weekend was to get internet installed, so that I could work there during the week and manage the renos/tradespeople there. But when the installer hadn't shown up by noon, I called Eastlink to inquire where he was. And they told me that they don't provide service to Warwick and no installer was coming. But they'd taken my $100 deposit and opened my account and told me (in writing) to be on site Oct 16 8:30-12:00 for installation. So aggravating! What kind of bad communication is that from a communication company? I've sent them a complaint. Spent a couple of hours trying to find another internet service. Bell and Rogers don't service that area either. May have found a tentative satellite one, but it sounds like service won't be fast enough. Still looking.

As we lay in bed Friday, under both a blanket and a sleeping bag, trying to keep warm, my husband asked me if I knew of anyone else our age who was doing this sort of thing, i.e. camping in an old building with no heat, and taking on a project this size at our stage of life. I couldn't think of anyone, but surely there are others. Aren't there? There should be a support group.

Saturday morning we found a second leak coming from beneath the water heater, so Hubby arranged for Hayters to come back on Monday to service it. We'll just give them the code to the lockbox and they can let themselves in. Worried that if they have to empty the tank to replace it, the flow of scalding water may melt the new sump pump. Spent this morning building insulated barriers to insert in the stairwells so we can close off the upstairs and not heat it over the winter.

And when we got home to Mississauga, we found the painter had not come to do our basement as expected. When we inquired why not, we learned he has tested positive for Covid. Oh! Thanks for not coming, then. Yet another delay.

So basically it has been one step forward and two steps back, this weekend. Whee!

A Real-Life Finn

 No, not someone from Finland. A fictional character, and not Mark Twain's. The manuscript I just submitted to the publisher has a little boy in it named Finn McGrath, a slightly wild child with utter self confidence and an impish sense of mischief. I generated him entirely from my own imagination. And then I met him in person, living next door to the church.

I recognized him right away, with a great deal of delight. I don't know his real name. I think it's Andy or Avery or something like that. He looks 10 or 11 years old, and he wanders barefoot and shirtless around the church grounds without compunction, happily ignoring his mother's shouts to "Stay out of their yard!" I've seen him swimming in the irrigation ditch, and sometimes I see him in the company of a young girl, but in general he is solitary. He has long blond hair that looks wavy, as if it would be curly if he cut it, and he is not shy in the least about asking questions or taking us to task for changing what he clearly views as his property.

Last time I was at the church, he asked me why we had torn up the grass, and I could tell from his tone that he disapproved. I explained that we hadn't wanted to, but that we had had to fix a leak in the basement, and that the grass would grow back. Then he asked me if I needed a certain piece of plywood I was using to help cover the open trench dug for the propane line. I explained its purpose in its present location, and added that this was a construction site and probably not a safe place for him to be, considering the open ditch full of wires. Whereupon he came closer to peer at the wires. He explained in some detail that he wanted the board to block the exit route for the feral cats he was trying to capture, under the shed behind his townhouse complex. He had already caught one to give to the lady in townhouse 4, and he wanted to catch the rest to take to the Humane Society. I ended up setting the board aside for him to use.

I had severely pruned back an overgrown bridal-wreath spirea, piling the branches aside, and once again he had something to say about it. He asked if I was going to throw it all away. I explained that the plant was dead underneath and needed a haircut, just like people do. Though he likely hasn't had a haircut in his life and didn't grasp the metaphor. I did give him the empty bird nest I found in the bush, which intrigued him for about two minutes before he lost interest and squashed it.

I also commented that someone had let their dog on our lawn and hadn't cleaned it up, so he may want to watch where he stepped with his bare feet. He nonchalantly informed me that it had been his dog. I suggested he get a bag and clean up after it. He cheerfully ignored me and continued to chase the wild cats.

I don't want to discourage his curiosity or boldness. He's a refreshing kind of kid, in a Huck Finn sort of way, and now when I read my manuscript again, I'll picture him in the role. The little kid next door will one day be the teenager next door, and I foresee a time when it will be a good idea to have him on our side. I suspect he could be a formidable (if passive-aggressive) enemy, so it's best to make him a friend. I could hire him to be the groundskeeper or security guard, so that he still feels he belongs in this place we have so rudely purchased out from under him. Besides, how often do you find kids who live outdoors in such connection to the earth? There isn't enough of that. His brio makes me instantly like him. Maybe he'll be a character in my next book, something for readers his age. The Warrior of Warwick. That has a ring to it.

Eleanor

 When my husband and I were out shoveling gravel at the church, a woman walked by and stopped to ask us if we were reopening the church. Petite and white-haired, she said her name was Eleanor, and she has been coming to the local campground at the conservation area for decades.

We told her some of our plans for the place and fell to chatting. She has a keen interest in history and has done her family history going back generations, though none of it is on computer. But she has printed up copies for all her children, so at least the information won't be lost. She said she has lots of family photos to preserve, and I bit my tongue to keep from blurting out an offer to digitalize them all for her and put everything on Ancestry. I think I have enough projects to keep me busy for now. But what a goldmine of information!

She expressed interest in our stained glass windows, so we let her go into the church to look around and see them glowing from the inside. She greatly enjoyed this and took pictures. I feel good restoring this bit of local history.

Since Eleanor has been coming to the area every summer for so long, we thought it a good idea to ask her what she feels the community needs most. There is no local place to eat and little entertainment other than bingo at the campground, but they do hold weekly music nights with someone on guitar. She thought people would welcome just about any business we wanted to run, because there's literally no competition in Warwick. It sounds like food and music is the way to go. She also liked the idea of a meditation centre or yoga hall.

We told her to stop back next year and see what is happening with the church, and she promised to return. An interesting lady, and an enlightening conversation.

Dominoes tumbling right and left - or - How to cram six weeks of work into one day

 On Thursday night my husband is going to drop me off at the church again for the weekend. That's because on Friday morning I have the internet company coming to hook up our high-speed internet, which will make it easier for me to get things done up there. Right now, we have to try to fit everything in on weekends so we don't miss work, which is tricky when many tradespeople only work Monday to Friday. If I can do my work from there with a laptop, I can stay during the week to meet people and let them into the church.

Since I'll be there anyway on Friday, we're also trying to organize it so that I also meet Hayters, the two window companies, and the environmental study guy on the same day. Essentially killing 5 birds with one stone. 

To update you, one company (Ridley) is manufacturing and installing the windows in the lower level, and a different company (Stephensons) is replacing the big round window in the balcony. Neither will be ready to go in until January or even spring, so it's best we get started now. The Phase One environmental study went well.

I want to start putting together a business plan of sorts, so that we can explain to the township what we want to do with the church and what kind of activities will happen there, to aid us in getting either a zoning change or a variance granted.

I had a mini meltdown on Friday, with a long talk with my patient husband lasting well into the night. Part of this was because we have work going on at both the church and the city house, as well as a noisy new guest at home and the city digging up the street outside my bedroom window, and the sheer noise level is overwhelming. I am a surprisingly quiet person for a bagpiper, and constant sound is like torture. That's another reason to scamper up to the church for the weekend. When everyone goes home Friday night and the dust settles, I'll have peace and quiet, just me and Brio, for a little while until my husband comes to pick us up. I may spend it digging a new trench for the propane line, but it's still alone time.

The other thing that caused me anxiety is that for the second time in 23 years, we are in debt. It is a small loan and extremely manageable, with a very low interest rate, and I understand the need for it in light of all we need to do to this church to make it solid and safe and healthy. I know it's perfectly acceptable to go into debt to buy a house, and I've had mortgages before (and this isn't even a formal mortgage, and I can pay it off at any time). But it's an uncomfortable feeling for me, being in debt, and I don't like it. Especially when the money all seems to be going into stuff that won't be visible once it's done, like wrapping the foundations. It would admittedly be more fun if the money resulted in visible things like pretty kitchen cabinets or new carpet. Anyway, my husband pointed out that the small bit of interest we pay monthly is less than, say, a condo fee would be, and we are going to end up with a property that could house the whole family if need be. It's still much cheaper than a house in that area would cost. There's no set timeframe or pressure for paying it off, though we'd like to get rid of the debt as soon as possible. So I need to take a deep breath and keep it in perspective.

I'm starting to see the church as a sanctuary to run to, a place to meditate and sit in the quiet and breathe. To be alone and silent. So I think a little interest payment smaller than a gym membership is probably a good investment, overall.