What's that sound?

No, this isn't an outtake from the "look at this dilapidated building" episode from every sitcom of the 70s and 80s. This is our kitchen. It's raining inside the house again.

It started as a drip late last night while we were all on the roof watching fireworks with the neighbors. By 2 a.m., it looked like a well-placed beer spill on the cardboard box I've been using to protect the slate. But within the hour, there was no denying that it was a leak.

We put that pitcher in place, and it was full by morning. It's much later in the day and we now have four leaks. There's no apparent issue with the neighbor's water heater, which caused the first downpour some weeks ago. And it's not from the rain, either. If Brad hadn't drilled holes in the ceiling during the first episode, we'd be in some serious trouble.

The landlord's out of town until tomorrow. So now we wait, and try to think of a way to get a new ceiling out of the deal. This is a problem that won't fix itself. I don't even want to think about the possible mold situation.

updates

Apologies for the long delay, but we've hit a couple snags. It's been a bad month.

We thought basement flooding problems would be solved with a three foot wide, fifteen foot long, three and a half foot deep trench in the studio. Sump pump was installed and secured and cemented over. It worked. The groundwater is now redirected through the foundation wall and into the empty field next door.

Now that that's out of the way, the cursed walls of Renard continued to emit moisture - only this time through the sewer and the living room ceiling. It would seem that the upstairs hot water heater has been spewing water, and the new upstairs tenants didn't stem the flow or call the landlord. I guess they didn't know it was such a dire situation. So imagine Brad's surprise this morning to come upstairs to see a lovely waterfall cascading down the living room wall.

It's a long story, but many holes were drilled to relieve the pressure of 70 gallons of water that have all this time been hanging out on top of the drywall. Lovely.

So the studio is dry... but the sewer grate spews all sorts of horror every time the water is used upstairs.

A chain of highly improbably vehicular incidents has left us minus one car and plus hundreds of dollars in parking ticket/boot fees, money that was supposed to be spent finishing the kitchen.

The landlord's younger family members are apparently still under the impression that our house is their playground, and have taken to breaking into the basement and screaming and knocking things over.

Spiders. We have spiders.

The trash-pickers and vagrants of this neighborhood are causing problems with the alley, ignoring the sign painted on our back door, and conducting all sorts of fascinating business just inches from bedroom #1.

There's nothing positive to say lately.

adulthood is...

... discovering that shower stall walls were built in your unfinished bathroom overnight, and finding yourself  immediately overcome with a giddiness that rivals Christmas morning.

...and then turning the corner into the hallway and realizing in your zeal to be finished with priming and painting, you packed in all the supplies without priming a huge area. You know, the gigantic one that's been casting its neon purple and aqua disco glow all over the place since day one. Nice.

The sewage pits have been filled and cemented, so it looks like Brad has the green light to start his bedroom.

Meeting with the plumbers today, and picking up a fridge later.

I've saved the best news for last: we may not have a working sink for the next few days, but as of yesterday, we have hot water.

still working away

Today looks like the last day of priming. We've given up on regular sweeping and have called in the help of sweeping compound for what seems like endless drywall dust and chipped bricks. I'm going to get cracking on the year + of dried-up, caked-on dust and dirt on all of the heating ducts because it's been driving me nuts since day one.

We hope to have the place habitable in two weeks or so. After priming is painting. After painting, we pour the cement and lay down some laminate flooring. Then the shower goes in, then we wrangle with the kitchen that still won't put itself together. New problem: where do we put the range hood? One of those things we just haven't thought of until now.

No one said it, but we were all thinking it: the seven-foot sheet of plywood that covers up what was once the giant hole in the hallway floor is not stable. I thought I was the only one holding my breath every time I walked over it and swearing I'd never walk over it again. But it's been in place for a couple of weeks, and the creaks and sways are not mere settling. We have to get someone on that this week too before (gulp) moving day.

Good news about the basement: we think we'll be able to put in a second bathroom for Brad to save him walking the length of the entire place (and a flight of stairs) to come upstairs.

Bad news about the basement: because it's early and I'm running on six gallons of coffee and some especially greasy hash browns, I don't have the stomach to detail what it is exactly that Jeremiah found in the basement plumbing-wise. Hint: certain things are not meant to be flushed. Especially repeatedly, for years on end. Hint two: I'm no plumber, but sewage pipes are supposed to lead to sewers, right? 

And I guess our dream rooftop garden will be delayed while we seal the roof and find a way to convince one of the tenants that the roof above our bedrooms, while conveniently located, is not an appropriate place for her to let her dogs relieve themselves.  

Our spirits aren't dampened, though. It'll just make for incredible stories months from now when the joint is so amazing that no one will even believe the state in which we found it.