Homecoming

Coming home from our Alaska trip has been a mixed bag.

Our neighbors dropped us off at home Friday, close to midnight.  We stashed our bags inside the back door, hopped in the truck, and followed them up the dirt road.  Kersey spent the ten days we were gone at their house, with their house sitter and their two dogs.  When we walked into the house, she burst out of her crate and slid to a stop in front of Brett; tail thumping the floor as she tried to roll on his feet and lick his arm and talk -- all at the same time.  She came to me next, rolling onto her back for a belly rub and squirming with joy.

As we pulled back in the front gate, Pistol nickered a welcome.  Jackson stood at the pasture fence, closest to the front gate, and watched us pull in.

Saturday morning we were up early to feed.  The animals didn't care that we had gotten in late; they expected breakfast on time.  Chris, who takes care of the horses, donkeys and goats, while we are gone, had the place in tip-top shape.  It was like we had never left; the barn was swept, the pastures cleaned and everybody looking well fed. Chris, I know, wishes we would just spread our horses' manure like other folk, but my garden loves the composted manure so we pick it up everyday and put it in the compost bins.  And we REALLY appreciate that she does the same while we are gone.

After chores, Brett decided to run down the road to our local market and pick up some milk and mushrooms.  I had completely emptied the fridge before we left and he was craving his favorite breakfast -- scrambled eggs: made with lots of milk, butter and mushrooms.  (Brett makes the best scrambled eggs; the BEST).  I heard the mud room door close behind him, and then I heard profanity.  The car wouldn't start.  It's back in the shop.  He had the same problem right before we left and had the battery replaced.

Later, Brett noticed a puddle of water on the floor next to the breakfast table.  Neither of us had water with our breakfast.  The ceiling was damp.  Great.

Brett tore out the ceiling drywall, above the puddle, and felt around.  The wood and insulation above the ceiling felt dry.  He shook his head, put away his tools, took his tarp outside, and vacuumed the floor.

After evening chores, I came in the house to start dinner while Brett closed up the barn.  I immediately noticed a big wet spot on the kitchen tablecloth.  We had moved the kitchen table back to its usual spot, after he cleaned up.  I quickly grabbed a bowl and set it under the drip.  The drip was right underneath our bathroom -- the one we had remodeled a year ago to fix a different leak.

Brett started feeling crummy Saturday.  We were both kind of sneezy the last day of our trip but didn't think much about it since we both have seasonal allergies.  Today, Sunday, Brett is sick as a dog with a fever, chills and a bone rattling cough.  I don't have a fever but I'm operating at 20% of normal, with fatigue, a scratchy throat and a cough.

Despite feeling like crap, Brett pulled out all the insulation out of the ceiling hole and looked at the exposed pipes.  There is a definite leak in the pipe (old, not part of the remodel) going from our sink to the septic.

I know I've said it before but I swear we are going to totally rebuild this house before we are done.  Even so, I continue to as much in love with this little ranch as ever.