Yeah, the snow kinda puts a damper on the Halloween thing. And, really, it's never been my favorite holiday. I did put up a spider, though.
Why so glum, you ask? Well, it's about the basement. See it's wet. I used to say it was "damp," but I got over my optimism. It has it's own personal river:
Yeah, 100+ year old basements are never pretty, but the water? Sigh. It stresses me out. We have never had a problem with mold, but recently we have become a mosquito breeding ground. In. The. House.
So, time to take action. I called a mason and expected the worst. This is what I got:
The little drawing on the bottom left depicts a french drain. And I'm getting 13" feet of that between the sink and the hot water heaters. French Drain - sounds so very sexy. I wonder what the French have to do with jackhammers and channels of crushed stone? Seems like an American thing to me. Or maybe German. Germans like tidy basements, don't they?
Anyway. After touring my basement for about half an hour and pointing out failed mortar and whatnot, I actually gulped when he wrote the "1" and then the "5" on the estimate. In my head, this was going to cost like 8 grand. I pictured myself talking JWH into it. Rationalizing. Talking about resale value. Then the "1" and the "5" and I was like, "Whoa! Fifteen thousand dollars!! No way! I'll learn to love the river. I'll name it. I'll farm salmon in it!" And then he stopped at $1500. And while that is not chump change, it's doable. And so it will be done. This. Week.
We do not mess around here at Holiday House. No we don't.