So after I got the table built and I could step back and see my wonderful work, I moved the rabbits out to their new new home. They were held up in the spare room, not where I would want to keep them permanently, their pee is quite potent, but it worked for a few days while I put the finishing touches on their new home. Not but two days after moving them out there, the neighbor had the idea to put a window in their cinder block building, right below where the rabbits sit on my porch. Only three feet away, the jack hammer used to make the hole for the window, nearly sent Vernon to his early grave. Poor thing. Marybell wasn't happy either, but in her demure manner, didn't protest as much as Vernon. He would freak out and run around his cage every time the jackhammer rattled against the cinder block. I don't blame them for being scared. That sound was irritating. So, back inside till they were finished.
Well, "finished" is not in a contractors vocabulary. If I had a dollar for every story and personal expedience I have had where a contractor or handy man has started a job and not completely finished, I would be rich. The job began with me walking out one morning to find the said window placed in my strawberry bed, thereby crushing half the beautiful plants that had sprung up in this early spring. I reacted like a mother who's child was stuck under a car; I summoned freakish strength and heaved the large window, casing and all, off my strawberry patch. Next the contractor proceeded to drop the broken concrete block on my strawberry patch. Everyday there were words exchanged, and I tried my best to cover and protect them. The last straw, what I thought was the last straw, was when I saw him applying new concrete mix to seal in the new window. He didn't cover the strawberries before starting, so wet concrete was dropping all over the plants. I started picking wet cement out of my bed and throwing it on the neighbors property. He retorted with, "stop that, or I'll rip the bed out completely." I called the cops and what was supposed to be the last straw was over till it rained, hard, for two days. Indirectly, his last laugh on me is the drain pipe he had to remove to install the new window. It used to run along the side of the building and empty into a drainage on their property. Well the contractor removed the last part of it right before the strawberry bed, so when it rained the first night the water run off ran right into the bed. The next day I saw a big hole in the soil of that bed and wondered what happened. Sometimes squirrels bury nuts in the raised beds and come back to dig them up. I first thought it was that till it started to rain again and I saw the water running right in. It was late afternoon when I put a bucket under the drain spout and late night, last dog pee walk, when it was full and I had to change it out for another bucket. All I have to say is, I'm glad I had so many buckets. I always wondered how rain barrels fill up with enough water to make it worth having, but now I think I'm going to get one.
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