When Contractors Attack - Again
On the Monday before Thanksgiving, in mid-afternoon, a red doorhanger appeared at the front door. It was a notice from the city advising us that work would begin on the alley behind our house on the Monday after Thanksgiving Weekend, with scheduled completion due two weeks after that. Since the work involved tearing up the existing surface and pouring a new one, vehicles in the garage and/or would have to park on the street, where trash bins would also need to be placed.
Yes, we’ve been here before. About six years ago when the city did this exact same thing, and about three years ago when extensive repairs to the three-year-old surface were needed. (Garbage trucks are destructive beasties, they are.) And, of course, there was the truly epic work done about eight years ago involving tearing up large portions of the street out front in the service of sewer repair, which lasted nearly two months, another round out front two years ago, and the fun and games this spring detailed in a previous post.
Sunday afternoon, we moved the vehicles out front. Monday morning, the destruction began at the end of the alley, with the sound of jackhammers, backhoe, and dump trucks getting closer through the day on Tuesday.
Wednesday morning, Himself had an audit gig in Ft. Worth and left the house around 7:15am, just as the sounds of jackhammers, backhoe, and dump truck started up behind the house next door. I settled at my desk, noise-canceling headphones close at hand as I happily anticipated a day of uninterrupted wordslinging. Oh, silly me.
At 8:15am the doorbell rang. One of the contractors asking for permission to go into the back yard. A scoop-load of broken concrete had gotten away from the operator and had hit the fence, and he wanted to gauge the level of damage so the crew could get the necessary supplies and make repairs. I gave him permission and directions, texted Himself, and went back to my desk. Which was when I noticed that the landline was dead. You guessed it; the crew had cut the buried phone line. I was assured the city would arrange for repair of that, too.
As of today, the fence as been repaired – sort of. Himself suspects they used nails instead of screws, which means he’ll be doing it again once the alley work is finished. The vehicles are still out front. And the phone line is still dead, thanks in part to the city’s process for arranging repairs bearing no relation to actual, functional process. We’re still trying to unscramble that one.