When we moved in, the electrician came out to give us an estimate on some work. Then he mysteriously vanished. I do not get it, everywhere I look, I read about electricians, plumbers, roofers, contractors, etc, having terrible trouble with the real estate bust. Not this guy, I guess, because he wanted nothing to do with us. This, um, sucked, because we had kind of a major even in early December, which makes all work on the house excruciatingly complicated.
They finally came out today, saying it would take one full day's work.
Every single fixture on the second floor is a mess. There were no actual boxes to support ceiling fans. The wires were so old and in such bad shape, they literally crumbled in the electrician's hands. The best part? The weird pipe-like things in the wires. Those were gas lines. Yep, gas lines. Probably from when the house had gas lamps. I guess the previous owners didn't think those were such a big deal? (I hate those people more and more with each passing day, by the way.)
The electricians are HOPING to be done by wednesday. they come out each day at 8:30, also known as the only time Gracie reliably sleeps. Also awesome. Oh, AND?! they'll need to cut the power most of the day on wednesday, which means I have to take Gracie to my parents' house because it will be too cold for her out here. Fantastic.
If I ever, EVER talk about buying another 100 year old house? Someone point me to this blog post. And then smack me. And then shoot me. Thanks.