A Less Than Spectacular Review

No water - the culprit was a broken ancient water pump - no heat - and wandering into the former dining room it was discovered that the previously working refrigerator had decided to spew all its cooling fluid down the back of the wall. I could have cried!

However, putting on a brave face I called my realtor - well... I tried to call my realtor. Of course part of the charm of the Chateau that I had been crowing to everyone about was that it had no phone, no fax, no internet. Which is a good thing - unless you want to make a phone call. I tried calling from the porch, I ran upstairs and stuck my head out the bedroom window. I ran across the hall and stuck my head out another window. All to no avail. There was indeed no cell service at the Chateau. Drove down to the beach and finally reached Betty Ann who was sympathetic but reminded me that it was a long weekend. Unlike Alberta, folks in Nova Scotia had the good sense not to work long weekends - or Sundays for that matter! It's part of why I loved the place. Right now however I was wishing that someone would show just a little initiative and be a keener.

Tried the contractor who came out to inspect the place, tried a plumber who was recommended - no answer. (Smart man!) Tried an electrician. Tried every person she gave me. No one was home. Deflated I sank into one of the vinyl recliners in the livingroom. My husband gingerly placed himself in the one on the other side of the room, wiping his hands and the chair with a wet ones. Things were not going well.

Undaunted I said, "well let's at least get the mattresses upstairs". Yes, the mattresses had in fact arrived and were completely (to my delight) covered in plastic. We hauled the top mattress up the staircase and deposited it near the master bedroom door. Down the stairs I ran to retrieve the box spring. Up the stairs and I was pulling furiously. I yanked and tugged and gripped, confused as to why things were not moving. My husband urged me to pull harder and he shoved from below with all his might. After about ten minutes of trying every angle to ensure the most clever trick possible, we were once more defeated by this, my most lovely love. This old house clearly had her tricks. A quick measurement of the mattress and then of the opening up to the top floor gave us the sorry news. The box spring was 2 inches too big for the opening. The only way to get it through was to tear open the ceiling. To me this was not even a remote option.

Nothing left to do but go to the beach. Heavy sigh. No one had mentioned the black flies.....