Taking Flight

We have birds in our house. Not in the part we live in, but in the attic, and somehow one managed to find it's way to the basement also. This may seem like a general house-repair kind of problem, but let me take a moment and explain it the way I see it. Clearly, it's all QB's fault.

Three years ago, when we needed a new roof put on the house, I contacted a number of reputable local companies who did roofing work. After getting estimates, I allowed QB to make the final decision on who was going to do the work because I really don't know anything about roofing, the materials, or how much it should cost. I heard for months that he wished he could do it himself so we wouldn't have to pay someone to do it, but, of course, I would be waiting years for that to happen. He finally went out a hired someone to do it. Not one of the licensed contractors on my list, but a I-do-this-on-the-side-when-I-can-with-whatever-help-I-can-find kind of guy. Of course it was cheaper. But three years later, the gutters are about to fall off the house. Not that I'm a roofing expert, but it appears the man who did the work on our house wasn't either.

So, now we have problems with a three year old roof that is supposed to be good for at least 30 years. What would you do? Fix it, have it done correctly, make the original worker make the repairs? All of these would be correct answers. Let me tell you what is not an acceptable answer: nothing. And that's what was done.

After lots of snow, torrential downpours and a few frightening wind storms, we have holes large enough for birds to get into the attic. The spot the like best is in the corner above Captain's room and the time they are the noisiest is about 8:00 at night, when he has been asleep for about 30 minutes.

I've asked nicely. I've complained. I've made sarcastic comments. I've nagged. I've started asking my father-in-law to stop by and force QB to do something about it. And still... there are birds in my attic.