Deconstruction continued…

There was an enormous pile of wet leaves on one corner of our patio, the result of a November snowstorm in 2025 that prevented our lawn care service from finishing their fall clean up. I remember it made moving the snow off the driveway twice as difficult because I was not only shoveling six inches of heavy snow, I was shoveling a thick layer of sodden oak leaves as well. Anyway, since we had family visiting, I had help cleaning off the patio. But, it was at this point that we noticed the patio was pitched improperly, so that all the water would run toward one corner of the house. And, in fact, it wasn’t only accumulating there, it was running down through that corner, and a crack in the foundation that widened after a hole had been drilled for the cable wires.

In other words: we now had water—and lots of it—coming into our basement. After our guests left, we texted photos to the contractor. True to form, he showed up quickly, saw the problem, and vowed to fix it.

Heavy rains didn’t just bring water into the basement, it also brought ants and centipedes. I set stakes around the perimeter of the house, filled ant hills with diatomaceous earth, and plugged up every entry point I could find inside. Then I smeared peppermint oil on the joints between baseboards and floors. I felt like I was living in a peppermint patty….

***

Meanwhile, we still had to figure out what to do about the oncologist. Since the nurse—a woman with 20+ years of treating cancer patients—was due to check on my husband at home one last time, we decided to ask her for advice. We told her everything, and watched her face change from sympathetic to shock and disgust. When we finished, she took a deep breath, and said, “I think it’s time for a new oncologist.” By then, I had researched options within our cancer center, and asked if she knew the doctor I’d picked. She didn’t, but said she had several patients who used him, and they were satisfied.

That was good enough for us. We decided to use the absolutely true, but least feather-ruffling reason for wanting to switch—the fact my husband had hearing problems, and the man was a self-admitted “Soft talker,” and the process went as smoothly as we hoped.

***

The poorly pitched section of our patio was removed and replaced in June. The mold—a nasty consequence of the leak—would be addressed once we were sure the area was sealed. During the months in between, we lost two people who were dear to us, and I attended two funerals. The countertop oven that was meant to replace our temperamental big oven stopped working, and the big oven had more tantrums.

Before I knew what happened, it was July, and we were getting ready for more family visits. The heat kept us from getting out to walk, so I walked inside on a treadmill and did laps around the dining room table, and it kept raining….

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