|When it works not only on paper...woot!|
I sweated bullets all week, waiting to hear from my handyman. Communication is not one of his strong points. I finally called him on Friday - one of those fish-or-cut-bait calls. I was assured up, down and sideways that he would arrive at 9A to complete Duck House #1 (three weeks late) and build (and finish) Duck House #2. He arrived at 12:30 with both his kids. His son (helper) spent 90% of his time fiddling with his phone. His daughter (not a helper) followed me within six inches (much too much in my personal space) talked constantly and required 24/7 supervision. By me.
|171 - to a neighbor|
If I turned my back on her - she was someplace I had asked her not to go. My plans - formulated in the heady early hours of Saturday - were to spend Saturday on all things outside. Sunday was for all things inside. Monday would be for falling to pieces getting my BBQ ready. Needless to say, nothing got done outside on Saturday. HM did NOT complete either #1 and #2 because he RAN OUT OF TIME. I, of course, was so relieved that he was taking his kids away, I did not complain. Much. He assured me he would return Sunday - without kids - to finish both houses. I felt fairly confident, as he had left his sawhorses - owned by his employer.
|172-173 on Freecycle|
Shall we wait for the other shoe to drop? Good news? He did arrive, and only a half hour late. Bad news? With his daughter. Sigh. I tried to stay inside and work on my list, but the peeps of panic emanating from the back yard had me popping in and out the entire time they were there. The last straw was the frantic peeping of one of my middies being pursued across the yard by the daughter. She had, after I said very clearly and firmly not to touch anything living, fished out one of the little Cayugas and then dropped him. I snapped. I told her he was NOT brave for "jumping" out of her hands. He was terrified. I ordered her to stop chasing him and to leave the yard. I let it calm down and make its way back to the rest of them, then very gingerly opened the door of the pen and it gratefully ran inside. All this time, her father studiously ignored what was going on.
|174 - Freecycle no-show|
I was steamed. Under most circumstances, I would have rounded up his hours and paid him over the actual hours he worked. I did not. While I appreciated the overall quality of the end product, he was unreliable, uncommunicative, unorganized (thank god I have a lot of tools) and kept bringing his damn kids. Will I use him again? Possibly in the fall on a simple framing project, when I have had enough time to forget how frustrated I am at this moment. But only if he a) calls if he's delayed and b) does not bring either of his kids. Pfft.
|175-181 and 182-185 and 186-193|