My House is a Money Pit

Richard and I bought our house in the year 2000; we fell in love with it on the internet, traveled to Maryland from New York to see it, and bought it on the spot.

They say that love makes you blind. Stupid, rash and impulsive. It's so very true. There were so many things about this house that we didn't notice. And we've been paying out the nose ever since. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love my house. It's beautiful. My gardens are wonderful. It's our first home; it's the first real home that our kids ever had.

The realtor, George, who resembled Col. Sanders without a beard, repeated several times that a neurosurgeon was the seller; he was obviously just trading up. We were (as George had hoped) duly impressed. After living here five years, I truly think that the neurosurgeon had the brains to get out just before things started breaking down.

My sister- and brother-in-law lived here for a year before we moved in; they were building their own house. We stayed in New York and let Maggie finish middle school, so that she would start high school here. It started fairly soon after Diane and Joe moved in. Hmmm, funny smell. Septic system needs pumping. No problem. Must just be full.

Approximately four weeks later, the septic system had to be pumped again. Uh oh, must be something more. It was. It was something MORE. A new leachfield had to be dug. Hello, Mr. Leon Johnson? Can you dig a really big hole in my backyard? You can? $5,000? OK. (Several days pass....) Hello, Mrs. Demers? We need to dig down more...you've got clay. That's going to be another $1,000. OK. " The Big Hole project gets done. Then comes the repair work....topsoil, wheelbarrels, shovels. Grass seed. We're grateful, because at least we'll never have to worry about the septic system again.

Cut to year 2005....mid-August. I've been meaning to call Roto-Rooter and get the septic tank drained (they recommend that you do it every three years). It's a routine thing...we've had a ton of rain. The nice Roto-Rooter man comes (his name is Dwayne, and I'm so sure that this man is horribly underpaid). He gets his big hoses, and he opens everything up. He sets about working on our system. About 45 minutes later, he's at the front door. "Mrs. Demers, uh, can I show you something in the back?" I have a feeling that this is NOT going to be good news.

Our leachfield is backing up into the third distribution box. For those of you who aren't familiar with these things (as I wasn't until Dwayne schooled me)...all the shit is going from the leachfield to the well, instead of vice versa. We need a leachfield rejuvination. Also, there's a cracked cover on one of the boxes.

This is going to cost $1,000.

So now I'm trying to find Mr. Leon Johnson who dug our leachfield. I've got a phone number, but I haven't seen any of his trucks around in a long time. Maybe he took everybody's money and ran. If I can find him, and it is indeed his fault, we're going to try and get him to right his wrongs. Otherwise, we're stuck again.

This is so shitty. (ha ha, a pun....)

Thanks for letting me vent.