Sometimes, It All Comes Together
My friend called me on Sunday, asking if we still needed help with our tree problem. “Yes,” I said; we sure did. She needed work done, had a team that did a great job, and asked if I wanted to meet them. “Yes!” I said, with enthusiasm, and they came over, talked with my husband, and made a deal.
A deal isn’t a deal until it’s done, as I see it. Lots of guys make promises and don’t show up. These guys showed up. They showed up with the right equipment and the right skill sets and experience.
I wasn’t there to watch. I had a commitment at a local elementary school where I volunteer, but AdventureMan kept sending pictures. He was pumped! These guys knew what they were doing. Most of the photos here are his.
While two guys went to work putting ropes on the BIG problem, our tree that ended up horizontal twenty feet off the ground over two fences and three back yards, one man went to work on the heritage pine tree in front, with a dislodged bough that never fell. He made short work of getting it down, and trimmed off a couple others that he thought might prevent a future problem.
Then, he tackled the Holly Tree which has leaned over the years until it was pointing directly at our house.
Finally, the BIG Problem. The tree over three yards. The good news is that our three backyards have large gates, so we could access all three yards. They brought in heavy machinery, and while they worked on different parts of the tree, the machine lifted it and held it up. The fences were undamaged, except for the one we were already preparing to replace before the storm because it was old and rotted.
When the loggers had finished, they saw one more long bough which was damaged, and likely to come down in the next serious wind, so they took that down, too.
These guys were amazing, and the job didn’t even take a full day. They were gone by early afternoon. They cleaned up, stacked all the logs, piled the boughs and blew the patios and drives clear. We were grateful, and impressed.
It wasn’t cheap. It was reasonable. The Pensacola News Journal had run a story on avoiding scammers, and gougers, and listed price ranges for work that were within a reasonable range; ours was right in the center, and they did a lot of extra work and all the clean up. We are so relieved to have the dangerous trees gone, and so relieved to have this great team to help us.
We are also grateful for the help from friends and neighbors, helping us with resources, good recommendations, good information and support as we went through this hurricane.
Not So Fast
It is a humbling experience (she says wryly) to be experiencing a sharply upward learning curve at a point in my life when I am supposed to be wise, by virtue of age and experience.
Yes, I have been through one prior full-blown hurricane, and many tropical storms, sandstorms, more than one earthquake, and even a flood. No two have been the same. I’ve lived a life full of challenges, and thrived. I’ve learned to think fast, to solve problems. I’m good at it.
So now, I am learning one of life’s less glamorous skills – patience. We have cleaned up. By the Grace of God, we have a person willing to help us clear the last spot needing clearing in our yard, a young man, experienced in tree work, the son of a friend. God truly works in wonderful ways.
We still have a big tree problem, this huge fallen tree in three backyards, hanging over us like the Sword of Damocles. I listen to my more experienced friends; they are all pragmatic. They say a variety of different words, all of which mean “Patience. This will take time.”
Finally, a disaster has been declared in our county. It took a week. FEMA, an organization which at one time was a shining light in our governmental policies, able to respond quickly and efficiently to disasters, is now hamstrung by cutbacks in personnel, funding and political machinations. Who and how they can help has changed. It hurts my heart that aid and lucrative contracts seem to be easily come by, while hands on help to those who need it most desperately, is very slow.
People talk about the blue tarps. In earlier years, almost immediately, trucks would go around giving out free blue tarps to homes with roof damage, to prevent more damage until the roofs could be repaired. We would fly into Pensacola and see entire areas with blue tarp roofs. I have seen a lot of roof damage inflicted by Hurricane Isaias; I have yet to see even one blue tarp. Such a simple necessity that can prevent so much more expense. Where are the tarps?
Neighbors are helping neighbors. Our neighbors who share our hanging tree are being wonderful. Everyone (except me) seems to understand that it will be fixed, and that it will take time. We are not a high priority. Intellectually, I can understand that. Emotionally . . . I am practicing patience. I am learning to practice to be patient. In some areas, I am a slow learner.
I have a small white sock on my buffet; it is a remnant of the load of wash I did for my granddaughter. They will be here for dinner tomorrow night and she can pick it up then. We are also working on a quilted holder for her Bedazzled work; I don’t know who is having more fun, her in eagerness for the container or me, in the design and making of it.
As soon as they got their electricity back, we lost our water, for hours, and when it came back, it was all brown. Finally, it ran clear, but it came also with a “Boil water” notice from our utility. I am reminded of Tunis, and Jordan back in the day, when boiling water was a normal part of life, and we had a big water purifyer called a Puro that we filled with boiling water and it filtered it all through large chalk filters.
Yesterday, after six days of sunshine and no wind, another smaller storm moved in and we waited for the other shoe to drop.
A lot of clean-up has been done. We are waiting for the disposal teams to come by and pick up debris. Meanwhile, the trees, grids, and water system still have invisible damage; changes in weather are likely to bring more unanticipated consequences.
Stronger than Isaias: Pensacola Strong
The second morning after Isaias, I am up early and concerned because my phone is on red. My gas tank is full, and I need, really NEED, coffee, so I plug my car charger in and head to the Apple Market. The Apple Market is closed! The generator is on, and there is a sign saying they will open at 9 with food and hot meals for all. I am more relaxed today. The first day after the storm, I think I was too stunned and overwhelmed, it was hard for me to take photos of all the damage. It felt hurtful. Today, things are looking better.
I drive around; I need more time for my phone to charge, and it is a gorgeous day, and there are trains of electrical rigs and their crews gathering in and about my neighborhood and we are ready to cheer.
Yesterday was all about cleaning out enough of the tree fall and detritus for the electrical crews to be able to get to work; the clean up is not complete, but enough that the crews are out in force. I am not in a hurry to get back to work raking, bending and picking up boughs and logs and hauling it to the pile, but AdventureMan will be up soon and I need to get home and the phone is mostly charged.
Its a terrible photo; I am on the main road, there are cars behind me and I know I shouldn’t be taking this photo but the subject is graphic and illustrative. What you see is a very large tree tangled in electrical wires, those silvery lines running top left to center. This is everywhere. That’s why the storms are so expensive, the amount of time and labor it takes to clear the wreckage and put the electrical system back in order. These people are our heroes!
Back home, AdventureMan sets the priorities; I am mostly manual labor. He is raking; I am bundling into barrels and hauling to the debris pile. The barrels are not heavy, just full of leaves and twigs and all the junk that keeps falling out of the stressed and damaged trees. We love our trees, and this is the price we pay – picking up after them.
As we continue to clear our back patio area and drive, we see electrical rigs at our near corner. AdventureMan goes over to say hello and is told that we should have electricity again within 24 hours. That is great news.
By one, we have made significant progress, and feel good about stopping and going over to the Apple Market to see what they have for a hot meal. There is a parking spot by the noisy generator, and we don’t complain, that noisy generator is what allows the Apple Market to be open. That, and their continual commitment to the community. Locally owned, carrying a lot of local products, the Apple Market has a crew that is committed and loyal. They are there in full force. Every check out has a cashier, and the food area is well staffed.
The coffee shop is closed. That would be really bad, I really needed coffee, and here is what the Apple Market did. They brewed coffee, put out real cream (in a bucket with ice) and sugar and gave it to their customers for FREE, with an apology that the coffee shop was not open. All I needed was coffee, and there it was, and nicely done. I was so grateful. Coffee never tasted so good.
We had hit between breakfast and main meal time, I picked up a chicken and waffle sandwich and AdventureMan had biscuits with pork sausage and bacon and laughed, he who eats little meat enjoying two porks in one meal. And said it was delicious. I had never had a chicken and waffle sandwich before, and it was also delicious. Perspective is so important, don’t you think? And hard labor makes you really hungry, and when you are really hungry, food just tastes good!
We have decided to take the rest of the day off. We are happy with our accomplishments. I am in here trying to summarize what we (all) have been through and the impact of the storm, while AdventureMan takes a snooze. My little Zenobia is sleeping on my feet, just so happy for a peaceful, relaxed moment.
Post hurricane can be really, really bad. In this case, yesterday was stunningly overwhelming, just facing all the damage and all that will need to be done just to get back to normal.
Today is a gorgeous day. People are more neighborly, more supportive post-hurricane. If it were raining – and it often is, post-hurricane, it is more of a mess. The weather is also cooler; this morning was in the 60’s, and that is really helpful for heavy outdoor labor. We are sleeping well at night with no air conditioning, windows open.
At the non-operational streetlights, people are civil. They are taking turns. On the side streets, people are being more courteous, not honking (much) and giving way when we have to accomodate trees in the road kind of driving.
All of these are not-so-small blessings. The texts flying back and forth “Are you OK?” “Did you have much damage?” “Would you like to come stay with us?” are so reassuring. We are a community and we are looking after one another. I can’t wait to see the Grafitti Bridge. Someone will paint something wonderful reminding us we are “Pensacola Strong.”
Isaias: The Overwhelming Aftermath
We are both up early the next morning, carrying our lanterns as our house is still very dark. AdventureMan’s first goal is to get the shutters open so we have daylight, and mine is to clear the driveway so our son and grandson can come help us with some large boughs which were blown down. Below is the first thing we see, the bottom of a very large tree overhanging our neighbor’s yard to the left. It is wedged between two trees in our far back yard in the middle, and most of the branches and tree top have fallen into our neighbor’s on the right. We couldn’t figure out where the tree came from, and then discovered it was one of our trees. The wind had lifted it, twisted it and somehow it became wedged between two other trees and hangs in the air like a teeter-totter. A very lethal teeter-totter. We call our Arborist, a tree specialist with special equipment – this removal will be tricky. And expensive.
But first, we scan the nearby neighborhood. As we are walking, our neighbor catty-corner across the street comes over to ask about damage; we assure her we are fine. She is also fine. This is the first hurricane after the death of her husband, and she weathered it alone and has no damage, not even water in her basement. We did a happy dance.
An early morning walker comes along, one we know, and she says “Do you smell gas?” which we did. We can’t figure out where it is coming from so I call the gas emergency number where I leave a message with their automated service. A couple hours later I get a call back and gas people show up and find the leak at one of our neighbor’s house where a tree had broken his gas pipe when it fell.
Around the corner I can see where a huge tree has uprooted and fallen on another neighbor’s house. It doesn’t look backly damaged, but I later learn the tree penetrated the house, and if anyone had been in the part where the tree landed, they might not have survived.
I first met most of my neighbors during Hurricane Sally. We all wave as we come and go, but now we are having real conversations, all of us outside cleaning up.
Cleaning up. It’s like a major move. You look at all the pieces, everything that needs to be done, and it is overwhelming. You look down the street, and see a big tree down totally closing off the street. You see live power lines down on the street (we reported the one close to us, and crews appeared almost immediately to clear it from the street.) We know better than to go near a live wire. All around us, the streets are full of boughs and leafy debris. We clean the worst off the street so traffic can pass. We work together.
It’s bizarre to have such a beautiful morning following the horrifying winds.
The hugeness, the enormity of all that needs to be done saps your will. We work for a while, eating that elephant one small bite at a time, and slowly, slowly, we see progress. The shutters are open, and the bands stowed away. The drive is cleared enough to be passable.
Our son brings his chainsaw, and he and our grandson cut a heavy limb into 2 foot pieces; Public Sanitation won’t pick up larger peices. Even these 2 foot logs are heavy, and they carry them to the debris pile. We are so grateful for their help, and the heavy duty chainsaw breaks. It did its job. We’ll buy him a new one for Christmas if it has totally kicked the bucket.
While we are cleaning, the National Guard arrives, doing what they are trained to do, help people who have been hit by emergencies. They are doing an initial survey of loss, making a quick list of priorities. The trees have to be cleared off the roads before the power teams can come in. Major streets are blocked, and the fallen trees have taken down power lines as they fell. Hundreds of power lines down. Thousands of National Guards people here to help, and we are so thankful for their presence.
The job isn’t done by a long shot, but it’s all we can manage for today. We have light, and our drive is passable, and the largest boughs are stacked on the debris pile. Our son and grandson head home; they still have a lot to do, and they have a fence that blew over in places.
It’s past lunchtime, and AdventureMan and I decide to see how clear the streets are and what kind of damage has been inflicted outside our neighborhood.
There is SO much damage. Trees ripped out of the ground, blocking the major roads. A BMW is stuck under a tree, and we wonder, “Was this guy out driving during the hurricane and had a tree fall on him, or was he driving shortly after the hurricane and did not see the tree fallen on the road and crashed into it?” With no streetlights on, it is a possibility.
When we come to the first stoplight, it is not operating. People are all of a sudden very civil and polite now, and take turns going through. In the commercial center, there is no electricity. It is Saturday, and nothing is open, not even the service stations – they can’t run without electricity. We decide it is safer to head back home, and as we do, we come across a local Greek food truck just on the verge of opening, “Five minutes!” he calls out and we wait. As we wait, five more cars drive up and when the truck opens, they have more business in one hour than they will normally have in a day.
When we stop, they only have one meal to sell, lamb gyro and Mediterranean salad, so lamb gyro and salad it is. AdventureMan doesn’t eat lamb. He did today, and said it was great. The salad was wonderful; I have been worried about not eating enough vegetables, but this meal was perfect. Everyone behind us also ordered lamb gyro and salad, thankful to get a hot meal. Most people in the area do not have electricity.
The drive home is awe inspiring, in a very depressing way. So much damage. So much work to be done. Pensacola knows how to deal with storms, but Pensacola is not the richest place in Florida, and all this extra work will stretch the budget in very negative ways. Just paying the cleanup will hurt other public services.
On Scenic, a sparkle. The Apple Market, a locally owned IGA store, is open! They have a huge, noisy Generac. They have electricity! The cars are rolling in; Apple Market has hot meals and some of the best groceries in town. We text our son and his family so that they know, too. Everyone loves the Apple Market.
Once home, it is time for a nap, and then we are out once again, trying to clear debris. AdventureMan spots a dark jungly section of our yard where there is more damage, more limbs down, more trees to assess for safety, and he gets us on the list with the local arborist. We will need specialists and special equipment to get our horizontal floating tree taken down. It won’t come cheap, but our flying tree is also endangering two of our neighbors’ yards.
Dinner is peanut butter sandwiches. We read briefly, and then, like folk in the olden days, lights are out and we are fast asleep after a long day of physical labor.
Isiais Coming In
We lost power just as I was making one last entry. It returned today, Sunday, late in the afternoon. I kept notes, and I will share them with you.
We lost power around 5. It happened slowly. We would lose power for a few seconds, then it would come on again. Even the last time, when we heard the transformer outside our house SNAP!, we had hopes it would come back on. It didn’t.
Here is a blessing. The weather is cool. What really makes it hard is the lack of air conditioning, but the air is cool enough: we are comfortable. With the shutters on and locked, it is very dark, and worse, we cannot see what is happening outside except for glimpses out the corners of our shutters and the back door. We have no internet. The phones are working, and we learn the storm is wobbling toward Destin.
Our phones are all charged, but we don’t want to use them because we may need them – urgently – if we are directly hit. No one really knows. We hear the storm has moved east of us, and later it learn that it hit Destin/Navarre more directly, but the preceding bands of lashing winds and rain hit here earlier in the day and got stronger as the day went on. We learned that the bridge over to Gulf Breeze closed at 3:30, in that old abundance of caution (which we learned is a good way to go when the bridge was badly damaged during Hurricane Sally, and we lost its use for months.)
We have lanterns. They are strong and glaring. The winds speed up and then pick up again. It gets very wild outside; the cats are freaking out, and a loud thump and brushing sound hits the north side of the house, and we know a limb is down, and maybe a power line with it. I go to look out the back door – it is covered with a piece of ballistic mesh, a requirement for houses so that occupants have a way to exit quickly if something violent happens – a treefall directly on the house, a gas explosion, a fire – anything requiring a quick exit.
We can see through the mesh, dimly. The winds are crazy: the trees are twisting, writhing, it is painful to watch. There are no lights at all, no streetlights, no human lights. But something looks weird in our far back lot, and I call AdventureMan,
“I think I see a huge tree sort of hanging horizontally, but maybe I’m not seeing what I think I see. Will you take a look?”
He peers; I point to what I think is one end and the line the maybe-tree is taking. He agrees, and we agree that to go outside to check in the midst of wildly chaotic winds might satisfy our curiosity, but might also kill us. Being people who laugh during the worst times, we speculate on the headlines, like Pensacola couple steps into backyard, killed by falling tree.” Using our wiser judgement, we stay inside.
The winds are over by nine. It is very, very quiet. No cars are going by. There are no streetlights. There are no lights in any of our near neighbors’ houses; there is a light farther up the street where someone has started up a generator.
The stress is over, as we are exhausted. There is no electricity, no internet. We can read by lantern light, but we are tired from the stress, from all the preparations, so we turn out the light early and are asleep as our heads hit the pillows. We are thankful this day is over, and more than a little afraid of what we will find tomorrow.
Anxiety and Hurricane Prep
Hurricanes are instructive. They don’t go where they are supposed to go. They wobble. You can prepare like crazy, and they go somewhere else. Today, Pensacola is preparing. Here is today’s forecast. Where the map explodes is Pensacola.
The last time Pensacola was struck by a hurricane was Hurricane Sally. She was supposed to go to Alabama, but at 2 in the morning, big surprise, she hit Pensacola.
Early this morning, they filled their tanks (so did I).
By eight in the morning, the parking lot at the local Publix was full! I had to park in the outside ring
AdventureMan had picked up most of what we needed at the commissary; I just needed a few additional supplies:
Apples, snow peas, and cookies at Buy one-Get one. I bought enough to share with the neighbors or any family that might drop in,
We spend the rest of the morning closing the steel shutters:
Very sturdy, and they let in some light, but the inside gets really dark when the shutters are on.
“Eau de toilette”, in case we have no water.
Our granddaughter was out of school early, so we picked her up for lunch and an afternoon together.
Even by noon, rumors are making their rounds that the storm will fade almost as quickly as it hits land, people are looking much more relaxed.
Me and IKEA
“What am I looking at?” You might ask. It’s my 28 year old laundry basket, good as new. It holds a lot of laundry, it folds up into nothing, and the bag unbuttons and comes off to be washed. 28 years, and good to go for another 28 years. It’s from IKEA.
IKEA is the nomad’s dream. I bought three tables to use in a country where I had no tables. These tables come apart, fold down to 24″ x 39″. and fold out to double that size. The hinged tabletops look like the day I bought them. I can put three together and seat 12 more people. They’ve moved six times, made their homes in four countries.
The complex in Kuwait provided the couches and beds, IKEA provided by closets, storage and book cases. I could take them apart and ship them from country to country. I finally had to leave them in Doha, our final post.
No, it is not fine furniture. And for a nomad, it packs up and travels just fine. One of my Army wife friends once told me (her father dealt in fine furniture and antiques) to save my money and buy the fine furniture when we retire and stay (more or less) in one place. I took her advice, except that I still have my die hard, hard working IKEA tables and my laundry basket. And all the IKEA shelves holding my books and fabrics and quilting supplies in the sewing room.
BRAVO, IKEA!
Full Suitcase a WOW
I’m researching an upcoming trip and wanted an address for the Unter den Linden Museum in Colmar, a city we visited a few times as a young family. I found a rabbit hole. I found a blog called Full Suitcase.com, and I have been there for a couple of hours, learning all the things I need to see (in a few short hours) in Colmar.
The article I looked up is called 15 BEST THINGS TO DO IN COLMAR, FRANCE (+MAP & TIPS FOR YOUR VISIT); you can visit it for yourself by clicking on the link. I skip around a lot, but this article kept me riveted. She takes or uses the most lush, gorgeous photos I have ever seen. It appears she and her family always visit her destinations on the perfect day.
The article on Colmar covers all the things I want to do, and it rings true to me, based on our own prior visits as a family.
But the section that impelled me to write this article was her section on Alsatian foods. Her food photos are also gorgeous. You feel like you could reach right into the photo and eat the food.
This is a photo of a dish I don’t even like! Choucroute Alsacienne, full of fatty meats and sauerkraut, but I swear, I’d give it a try if it really arrived at my table looking this good:
And here is what gave me a smile. Look at this “Alsatian Crepe”. The translation is “Galette Sarasin.” When I look at it, I see something that looks very much like my favorite street food in Tunis, Tunisia, North Africa, called Brik. It is mad with a very thin batter, not poured, but popped from a hand over and over on a skillet shaped like an overturned wok. Each pop leaves a thin, delicate skim of dough, and enough pops create a thin fragile skin in which a mostly cooked egg, or tuna, or egg and tuna are placed and then quickly wrapped.
So this crepe is some kind of hybrid. Crepes are made with a thin batter, but poured and swirled, not popped by hand by a skillful granny. And it makes me wonder how this thin, fragile pancake-like meal travelled; I’ve eaten it from the Middle East through North Africa to France. But look at the texture – it looks very thin, very fragile!
This is from her About section: “Full Suitcase was founded in 2015 by travel writer Jurga Rubinovaite and is independently run. The site publishes original, first-hand travel guides and is regularly referenced by international media. Our travel advice has been featured by CNN, BBC, and BBC News World Service, and published online and in print by Lonely Planet and Lonely Planet Kids. We also collaborate with selected travel brands and destinations worldwide.”
I love her work. She is really good at what she does. Go visit her!
Intlxpatr Turns Twenty Years!
Welcome to our virtual celebration, old friends and new.
Twenty years ago on this very day, newly arrived in Kuwait, I joined a very lively, edgy and welcoming blogging scene. It was frightening to me, but I had my reasons. There were bloggers I loved reading – I started by commenting on their posts. It was like a salon, topics and views and opinions everywhere, and also some facts.
There is an old story about Martin Luther, the priest who nailed his ideas for a better church on the door, and while the church didn’t change, the community in which he lived was willing to entertain his thoughts, and slowly, things DID change. When asked why he would take the risk – being called heritical could end to death – he said (in German), “I cannot other.”
Stepping into the blogworld was stepping outside a comfort zone and expressing thoughts some might think better left unspoken.
C’mon in. Here There and Everywhere has always worked to be a safe place for exploring new ideas, disruptive thoughts and how to make things better. We’ve got great virtual refreshments and a safe place to vent 😊.
There’s a little bit of Soused Apple Cake left over from yesterday’s Fish Fry.
For those who, like me, have to be careful, we also have some relatively healthy finger foods:
Grab something to drink 😊
I miss our great discussions, and I miss the liveliness of the old blogging scene. I’m not so comfortable with the arguments and name-calling I find in other outlets, nor the need to be wary of those who are monitoring – and who are they, anyway?
Meanwhile, a good friend mentioned recently how political I have gone.
Honestly, in these times, even the apolitical are speaking out. I heard a priest today talk about his anger at the hijacking of the gospel, used for vengence and not for love. I found it very brave, those strong words. If we don’t speak out bravely now, the crushing forces seeking vengence and control create a world most of us won’t want to live in.
I want a government who subsidizes health care for ALL. I want science to recommend vaccines which improve our quality of life and save lives. I want corporations that have standards to meet for air and water and environmental protection. I want our police to protect the weak against the bullying and violence of those who think might makes right. I want to welcome the stranger, creating new textures and patterns in the fabric of our nation. I want every person’s vote to count. I want responsible, accountable, educated leadership, and congressional decisions created by working together to achieve doable compromises.
“Ich kann nicht anders.”
As a post script – this is my 5,900 published post 😊.
The Gift That Keeps on Giving
WordPress provides a prompt question every day and occasionally, I can’t resist. Todays is about the best purchase I ever made.
We were at a transition point in our lives, leaving the military, facing a temporary geographic separation (AdventureMan off to Saudi Arabia) and he said to me something I’ve always loved, that I’ve been a good wife and to buy a house any where I wanted.
I knew where that would be. I had a clever Mom who, every time I visited her, had set up a realtor to show us condominiums. She always said it was so that when they downsize, they would understand the options, but I also believe she had another agenda – to show me the options. Or so I suspected; my Mom often held her cards close to her chest and I would have to guess at her intentions. Whether or not she intended, she did sell me on the location.
AdventureMan drove one of our cars across the country and spent two days looking at options. He came back excited.
Then when he came back, we packed out everything we intended to keep and sent it to storage. Adventureman departed for Saudi Arabia and I kept working until our house sold, then moved temporarily to an apartment. I looked at a slew of places, and bought a house that looked very boring, but in the community I loved .
The house wasn’t as boring as it looked. What made it look boring was the wall-to-wall beige carpeting. Before I moved in, I had it all ripped out and had natural oak wood floors installed. It seemed horrendously expensive but it had a WOW factor – the house looked gorgeous.
I lived in the house for two years, AdventureMan and I having telephone dates and him dropping into town every few months for conjugal visit, LOL. Then, he got permission for me to live with him in Saudi Arabia.
We rented out the house. We’ve rented it out all these years, only one change in renters, never a single vacant month. I love the house still, and it was the best investment we ever made.
Within a few years, rental income had paid off the mortgage. Every year since then is gravy. We visit the renters now and then to check on the house; they are doing a good job at protecting those beautiful floors. They’d like to buy the house, but we have promised it to our son, who loves it too.
By far, the best purchase we ever made.
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