CHANGE OF LIFE & SEASONS

September was the most hated of all months when I was growing up. My brief span of freedom came to its end. The month was so dreaded, the very mention of it made me cringe in July. By August, just the thought of it gave me night terrors. There wasn't a child conceived who loathed school and everything it entailed more than I did! The teachers were tantamount to jailers. And the other kids were little gangsters as far as I was concerned. To say I didn't fit in was an understatement. And worse, I didn't want to! Once back in the gulag, it seemed forever until the holidays rolled around.

Now that I'm old, it seems that after the calendar hits September, the holidays come and go fast. Plus I LOVE it when the kids are back in school!!! The neighborhood is far more serene. Also I don't have to worry about my mailbox until the weekends. But the month is dreaded for another reason.

September is when we are the most likely to be struck by hurricanes! And the double zero decade was certainly an unusually active one! It really put the fear into me. Those were miserable times and the memories remain vivid.

I feel the new year should begin in September, rather than January. Because everything seems to change so dramatically after Labor Day. Everything feels different, like a brand new year!

Summer is the "naked season" for me. I close the blinds and strip myself bare to save on electric bills. Technically, September is still part of Summer until the 22nd of the month.

During rare Septembers we get our first taste of cool air after seemingly endless hellishly hot & humid days. But I can remember many a year when I wore my Summer clothes (tee hee) straight through Christmas. The tourists and the snowbirds may love the warmth, but I hate it! I need a nip in the air to feel alive. Florida is probably the wrong state for me.

Growing up, I remember the temperatures being quite different. Halloween night was almost always chilly. By Thanksgiving, we were all in heavy long sleeves or sweaters. And by Christmas, we never went outdoors without a coat! This changed around the time I got up into my 30's. Native Floridians started to take note and remark about the warming cycle we had entered.

I love the holidays. But it's hard to get into the spirit when you're sweating in the heat. In recent years we did have some prolonged cold, but that came after New Year's.

My favorite time is that period between Thanksgiving and Christmas. I enjoy that festive feeling and hopefully cooler air, too! However, after you reach adulthood, Christmas Day itself becomes an anti-climax. It's little more than just a big meal.

New Year's is always a sad holiday to me. Perhaps because it means all the big holidays are over for another year. I never celebrate the new year. It's more of a reflective time.

That brings us to my birthday in January, which I always celebrate, even if I'm alone. At my age, I'm starting to wonder how many birthdays I actually have left. In a way I'm kind of glad my time is growing short. I don't like the direction the world is headed.

By February, people are bellowing, "Summer is right around the corner!" Which makes me want to high-five them with a brick to the head. Because I want it to stay Winter! I've never tolerated heat well. And the older I get, the less I can stand it.

Summer, once my most cherished season, now is my least favorite. As far as I'm concerned, it can't end fast enough!

AFTERMATH OF THE STORM

Growing up in Florida I've heard some pretty stupid statements concerning hurricanes. Such as, "It was such a job boarding my windows, I was disappointed the storm didn't hit." Which makes me want to scream, "You fool! It would be a lot more bother & expense if it did!"

Another ignoramus statement is, "Oh a hurricane is just a one day event." Actually the aftermath is often just as bad or worse. But in different ways and the ordeal can stretch on for days, weeks, and even months.

2004 the day after Hurricane Frances hit, the pain from my temple soon spread to the entire right side of my head. I returned to the bathroom floor to sleep. I was constantly throwing up from the migraine. And the toilet was right next to my head. So it was a convenient place to be.

Early the next afternoon, I took my migraine upstairs to sleep in my own bed again. This was late summer, my house was boarded up with no air-conditioning or electricity. I awoke in blinding pitch darkness atop sweat-soaked sheets. The room felt suffocating. I fumbled for the candle & matches I had left on my little bedside dresser.

My flashlight and radio were downstairs. Slowly, I ventured out. As I neared the bottom of the stairs, I nearly tripped with the lit candle in my hand! It was a close call! Everything around me looked creepy with the windows boarded. My cathedral ceiling added to this effect.

I grabbed the flashlight and radio. I hurried back upstairs into my bedroom. Suddenly I spotted the small, unboarded bathroom window. -- A window I could open! The outside air was sweltering, too. But at least it was fresh! This is where I slept for the following week. My master bathroom was more spacious than the one downstairs. I could stretch out.

Every night I fell asleep to the music of neighbor's generators. I felt ants and other things crawl over me as I slept. My only entertainment was the radio, which I often wanted to smash! I didn't like any of the music. Plus I was hungry for world and national news! The only news I could find was about Vero Beach as if it was the center of the universe! I was sick of hearing about the hurricane!

Phone service returned around the same time I recovered from the migraine. Then my flashlight gave out. Even a new battery couldn't save it! The first thing I did was call my Insurance Co., which I did by candlelight. As I related information, my policy nearly caught fire in my hand! The lady at the other end was understanding. She said to take photos. She suggested I find a man to help me spot damage. Then I phoned the carpenter to come and unboard me. I was unable to reach him.

An hour later, my friend Irene called. She warned me not to drive because signs were down and traffic lights were blowing loose on their wires. Due to the lack of electricity, I couldn't get my car out of the garage anyway. Plus my driveway was covered high in debris.

Irene had weathered the storm in a house filled with friends. I asked if I could borrow a camera since I was without one. She put "Bernice" on the phone, whom I'd also considered a friend. I asked if her husband would walk around the house with me to spot damage. Well she screamed into the phone, "My husband is not responsible for your property! He'll bring you a camera and don't you dare ask!"

I was stunned. I wasn't asking him to sign anything! So how was he responsible? I should have told her to take her camera and stick it! But I was desperate. Even Irene told her she was being unreasonable. Later, I made it clear I wanted nothing more to do with her until she apologized. But she wouldn't budge!

Thanks to the migraine, I had no appetite for 3 days. I carried multiple garbage bags of spoiled food out to the curb. For my first meal after the storm, I ate a giant can of spinach. Later, I had lots of room temperature soup, which wasn't bad that way! My house was a sweat box, so I didn't want anything hot. I ached for a glass of something cold to drink.

My kitchen windows that overlook the porch were unboarded. But I couldn't open them because they are screenless. And the porch screens were all blown out! I didn't want squirrels, lizards, bugs, snakes, and Lord-knows-what-else stealing into my house.

Around dusk, I'd sit at my kitchen table fiddling with the radio dial. Through the windows I could see a disturbing view. It looked like the end of the world. It reminded me of a scene from DAWN OF THE DEAD. Honestly, I kept expecting to see zombies! There was no street light now. It got dark fast! I didn't like being down there then.

Later, I heard that the Winn Dixie supermarket closest to me was now open. After clearing my driveway, I asked the new neighbor to help me with my garage door. He was a big, older man and was able to lift and hold it open from the side as I drove out.

The supermarket had darkened isles with mostly bare shelves. The freezer cases were almost entirely empty. I was hoping to buy ice, but there was none. I picked up a can of cold soda, paid for it and asked the cashier if I could drink it right there. She nodded. Afterward I bought bread & peanut butter, plus a box of granola bars.

I was told the carpenter had come to unboard me while I was out. My phone was working now. He should have called first!

Electrical crews from all over the country descended like angels to get us up & running again. After a long, miserable week, my electricity was finally restored. But my house remained boarded. At least I had air-conditioning now! I found myself navigating in dark rooms out of force of habit. TV service didn't return for almost another week because the cable co. was still getting it's act together. I risked my life driving to the movies during the day.

As is typical after a hurricane, calls to contractors & handymen went ignored. But my house was finally unboared. I believed the worst was behind me. I assured myself I wouldn't be experiencing anything like that for at least another 10 years or more. People were starting to smile again. Little did anyone know, that in just a couple of weeks, another category 2 hurricane would strike us all by surprise!

HIDER IN THE STORM

Labor Day weekend 2004, no one in South Florida was planning any picnics on the beach. We were all hiding behind shutters or plywood. A monster category 2 hurricane named Frances was headed directly toward us. Exactly where she would make landfall was anyone's guess.

I had weathered 3 serious hurricanes in my life. This was to be the first I would experience alone.

That Friday I was stressed-out, in an agitated state unable to find anyone to board-up my windows. So I busied myself moving anything of value from my second story. I didn't know what else to do. The next day the storm would hit!

An older couple recently had moved in next door. They were completely renovating the house. First, they installed storm-proof glass in their windows. (Something I wish I could afford!!!) Learning of my situation, they sent their carpenter over to help me. He was a Godsend!

Pre-cut and labeled plywood sheets were now waiting in the garage. He only charged me $40.. Because he didn't believe in taking advantage of anyone in my situation. I thought he was a saint!

Unfortunately, there was nothing to protect my front door or bathroom window. The man who cut the plywood claimed that due to the angle of the house it was unnecessary. Ditto for my wide kitchen windows. He said they were protected by the back porch. -- But I think he was just lazy! I was particularly concerned about my unfortified front door. Especially since it opened inward.

Shortly before, a major hurricane named Charley hit Florida's other coast causing serious damage to lives and property. I, like most other Floridians believed that would be the Sunshine State's only hurricane of 04. Little did we know it was just the beginning of an active season!

That evening, I prepared a feast for myself in the formal dining area under the chandelier. I felt like a passenger on the Titanic. Soon all the food in my refrigerator would be spoiled. But tonight I would dine like a Queen! I wondered if my house would even be standing by Labor Day Monday.

As I readied for bed, I turned off the bathroom light only to find myself standing in pitch darkness. I'd forgotten my large window was now boarded. I figured if I just slowly walked straight, I'd come to the foot of my bed. Then I'd climb on. I took a few steps forward blindly swinging my hands & arms in the dark.

Suddenly I grabbed an object that should NOT have been there! Something metallic, long and cold; like the bottom of a huge windchime. It was hanging way down in the middle of my room! I took it with both hands, feeling it up and down trying to discern what it could be. There was nothing like THAT in my bedroom! I was freaked out and frightened. Afraid, I let go and turned back toward the bathroom, feeling the wall as I went. I switched on the bathroom light, then the bedroom one. There was absolutely NOTHING hanging from the ceiling!!! Yet it had been as solid as my wrist!

Quickly I got a nightlight from the hall closet. I placed it in the bathroom, then left the door ajar. To this day I have no idea what that was in the darkness. It's just one more weird, inexplicable occurrence in my life.

Around 4:00 A.M. I was awakened by fierce shrieking winds lashing my house! I realized if I wanted one last cooked meal I'd better get up in a hurry! I prepared an enormous breakfast. From past experience I knew I would be in for a week of mostly fasting. The electricity gave out right after I finished the dishes. Frances was a gigantic, slow-moving hurricane. The worst was yet ahead.

The storm's most intense savagery came after dark. My safe room was the downstairs bathroom. It had no windows and was pitch dark with the door shut even in daylight. This is where I would spend the night. I threw 6 large pillows on the floor as my bed. Unfortunately, the room is narrow. Whenever I turned in my sleep I'd either bang my head on the base of the toilet or hit the door jam with my foot.

As the winds accelerated, I worried my front door would blow down bringing the storm inside. I closed and locked the bathroom door. I turned off the flashlight. Again, I was in blinding pitch blackness. But my flashlight was close! Suddenly I felt elated that I was alone. There was only room for me in here. Had my father or the dog been alive, it would have added only more stress and problems.

A chilling draft sweep through my house. I heard it as well as felt it! I shivered as it blew under the bathroom door. My house and I shook together. Outside was chaos! The sounds of my home being viciously assaulted by this monster were all around. At one point, I was certain my back porch had been ripped off and blown away! I thought again of my front door and wondered if I was going to survive. It was a horrifying night!

The next day I awoke with an excruciating migraine. I had no idea what time it was, and I didn't care. Through my kitchen windows I saw the torn screens flapping on my back porch. To my amazement the porch itself remained! But the results of hurricane havoc were everywhere! My back lawn was completely covered with debris. The entire neighborhood was a similar disaster. Trees were down. Everything looked broken and battered. -- But my front door held!

I was nauseous from the migraine and my right temple throbbed in agony. I returned to the bathroom floor to sleep. Later I moved back upstairs. I spent 3 days sleeping off the migraine. For the time being, there was nothing better to do anyway. However, the ordeal was far, far from over.
 

A NEIGHBOR'S MARITAL MISADVENTURE

"Gertrude," my only true friend in my former neighborhood, was as old as I am now when we met. ( I am in my early 60's) At the age of 30, Gertrude was married briefly for 6 months. It was such a traumatic experience she never wanted another husband!

"He was handsome with dark curly hair, just like Tony Curtis," she told me. "We dated 2 years. And he treated me like a princess! Anything I wanted was fine with him."

"But didn't you tell me he was another woman's reject?" I asked.

"He was recently divorced and hurting when we met. Because his ex-wife cheated on him. I thought, poor guy. He's so sweet... I remember," Gertrude continued, "Whenever I worked late at the bank, he insisted on picking me up. He was so worried about me coming home alone in the dark."

"So far he does sound like a prince," I said.

"Well he changed into a completely different person after we got married!" she stated with a sniff.

"How soon after?" I was curious to know.

"Immediately after the wedding! He left me inside the car in my gown as he partied in a bar with some other men. He said he'd only be a few minutes. But it was far longer. Then, on our wedding night he told me if I ever got pregnant, he'd take off and I'd never hear from him again!"

"Egads, he was a lowlife!" I exclaimed.

"My parents bought us a nice house as a wedding gift," Gertrude told me. "He was eager to sell it and move to Montana. I said nothing doing, forget it!"

I have seen photos of Gertrude's house up north. It's a beautiful two-story with bay-windows.

"Every time I asked him to go anyplace or do anything with me," she continued, "he'd tell me to do it with a girlfriend. I explained to him that I didn't get married to hang out with girlfriends! And he'd better be careful, or I was going to get a boyfriend just like his ex-wife!"

"Glad you told him that!" I said.

"One night after I worked late at the bank, I came out to the parking lot to discover my car missing! Our new house was only a few blocks away. So I decided to walk and report it stolen from there. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw it parked in front of the house! Inside, curly hair was asleep on the sofa."

"I think I would have suffocated him with a pillow!" I told her.

"He claimed he needed the car to meet up with friends earlier. Then he just FORGOT ABOUT ME!" She fumed. "The following Monday, I didn't come home from work. I went straight to my parents house. Then I filed for divorce! -- He was furious!!!

"I'm surprised it took you that long," I said. "The wedding night would have done for me."

"Well he didn't want a divorce! Everything was great as far as he was concerned. And I was a terrible person! He even showed up at my work and created a scene! The police were called to remove him."

"And he was so sweet during the courtship!" I pointed out.

"He got himself an attorney. Then, he demanded my wedding and engagement rings back! Even his own attorney thought that was going too far. -- However, if that's what it took to get him out of my life, I was willing." She sighed.

"Did you ever see or hear from him again?" I asked.

"Just a few years ago, he contacted me. He wanted to meet for lunch. Friends advised me against it. But I was curious."

I know what I would have said to him!

"Actually it was a pleasant lunch. Because I knew we were never getting back together... And that beautiful curly hair was mostly gray. He was sweet, just as during our long ago courtship." 
 
"Today I was going to give you your rings back," he cooed as he took my hand. "But I lost them."
 

THE TWO MILLION DOLLAR NEIGHBOR

Back in my Stuart days, an elderly widower lived next door. After his wife passed, we were given an extra key to his house. This was during the late mid 1980's. One Sunday evening around 9:00 PM, we received a call from his panicked niece. Distressed, because she had been unable to reach him all day. He rarely left home!

My parents immediately assumed he had died! His niece wanted my father to go over. Dad was uncomfortable with the idea of finding him dead. So he called the police.

My father and the cop entered the dark house together. The neighbor was alive! He had been stuck in his bathtub since early morning.

An ambulance was summoned. Dad returned home.

"Was he naked?" my mother eager to know.

"No," I replied. "He was wearing a hat and socks!"

His niece came down from Chicago within the week. She was an older, retired woman. This was the first time I met "Gertrude." Although she had visited before when her aunt was alive.


My neighbor, her uncle died a year later, as did my mother. Since he had no children, Gertrude inherited his house. His money went to charity. She became a seasonal resident, a snowbird. Eventually, she planned to move down full time.

Gertrude and I became instant friends! Often we went out to dine. Plus we both had January birthdays which we celebrated together.

Gertrude was an only child from an affluent family. She inherited just short of a million dollars from her parents. But turned it into two million through her stock market savvy! She told her broker what to do, never the other way around.

Shortly after Gertrude came into my life, the neighborhood quickly began to change. Houses on the river like ours were getting bulldozed and mansions sprang up. Many of the people who resided in them were arrogant with a sense of entitlement. What I call the scumbag millionaires.

Gertrude never fit in with this crowd because she hated showy people who flaunted their wealth. However, she owned a brand new Lincoln Continental with all the bells and whistles. Plus she bought herself expensive jewelry as frequently as I buy the costume stuff at Thrift Shops. -- If you have money, there is nothing wrong with enjoying it! I know I would! My father also owned a Lincoln Continental at the time. But his was older and not as fancy.

However unlike the scumbag millionaires, she never tried to make me feel inferior. She was generous with her kindness.

Less than a year after my mother's death, Dad married "Avis" his mistress of 18 yrs.. My dad really knew how to pick'em! Gertrude found Avis phony and saw through her lies. She was the only neighbor who believed me as I related my abusive experiences with my new stepmother. Everyone else went over to the Avis side.

It's hard to believe all of this went down 20 yrs. ago. It still seems so vivid in my mind.

After a few years trapped with Avis, I suffered a big emotional breakdown. I ended up spending 4 hours in jail! Gertrude was the only neighbor who still wanted anything to do with me.

Many of those neighbors congregated in front of my house loudly and publicly reviling me, claiming I should be institutionalized. Gertrude was the only one who defended me. She told them all they were disgusting! Later, Gertrude brought me a pint of Hagen Daas.

Eventually, it was my stepmother who was institutionalized, and not me! Gertrude became even closer to me and Dad. She was at our house every day and numerous times.

Thanks to the new mansion on the other side, our property taxes skyrocketed! We were forced to sell our home of nearly 40 yrs.. My father was depressed. But I was eager to leave that neighborhood I had long hated! Gertrude was devastated. She told us repeatedly how lonely she would be.

The day we moved, she drove behind us in her new Lincoln Continental all the way to Vero Beach. She calmed our dog while we were busy directing the movers.

After my father's death, Gertrude often visited and gave me advice. We ate lunch at Dodger Pines Country Club. Which she loved! The two of us always exchanged letters during the months she was back in Chicago. As with my father, Gertrude's health began to fail with age.

On a late summer day, I returned from the movies. In the mailbox I found my last letter to her, returned. It was marked DECEASED! I remembered how excited she was at the thought of soon becoming a full time Florida resident. Now that would never happen. I cried. Never did I cry when my own mother died, not even once!

THE PEEPING TOM PAINTER

Unknowingly, I hired the manic-inducing contractor of nightmares to work on my home. -- A woman, no less! Before the work began, she brought a man to my house whom I first thought was her husband. She introduced him as "Chip" her no. 1 painter, a long time employee. He looked like a pirate! He had a scraggly ponytail longer than mine. -- And my hair wasn't short! His swarthy face was filled with big, ugly blackheads. 

Later, 2 other painters showed up as well. But mostly it was blackhead the pirate. There were days I felt chased from room to room avoiding their prying gaze through my windows. I mentioned to a former neighbor that I was planning day outings to escape them.

"That's a bad idea," she said. "If you're not around, they're more likely to cut corners. Stay there, and stay visible!"

Well they cut corners anyway! But I felt a prisoner in my house. I complained to the contractor the job was taking too long. And I couldn't leave!

"Hey, you can leave," she replied, "there's nothing keeping you here!"

"Oh really," I said. Every hour one of the guys was either ringing my bell or banging on my door to use the bathroom! At that time, there were no public places near by they could use. Well too bad! I started going to the movies more during the week. Guess they'd have to use the bushes out back . 

One mourning around 7:00 AM, I stepped from the bathtub and dried myself. As usual, I walked nude around my bedroom. I could see no trucks in my driveway. So I figured I was alone. I turned, facing my open bedroom door. And to my horror, I made eye contact with the pirate! He was on a ladder working the top double-picture window. -- A window visible from my bedroom through the open loft.

Quickly I slammed door shut! Perhaps he didn't see me? Then I heard him humming strip-tease music as he walked around the house! -- I wanted to vanish, or him to die! How could I look him in the eye after that! There was no way to avoid him.

I hoped perhaps he might be a gentleman and not mention it to anyone. But from the smirks of the other workers, I knew he had! And worse, every time I went outside to collect my mail or garbage bins, they would all stop working and just stare at me. 

A friend claimed I should have phoned the police directly after it happened! I told her it was an accident. I was unaware the contractor had just dropped him off and left. He was not there to peep at me! He was working.

"That doesn't matter," she stated. "He should have knocked on your door and let you know he was there."

Well he may have! I can't hear anything in my bathroom with the water running. Sometimes I can't even hear the phone in my bedroom! Plus I didn't want to make a big issue out of this. It was too embarrassing!!!

I suffered through a few months of humiliation. But karma soon came to take my side.

During the workers month-long disappearance, a screenless downstairs window kept coming open. It not only was running up my air-conditioning bill, but Lord knows what was getting into my house. It also placed my life and property in danger!

It was late in the day, everyone but the pirate had left. His cell wasn't working so he came inside to use my phone. As he tried to leave, I blocked his path and ordered him to fix my window!

"I can't now, Dianne," he replied, "I'm too busy and my ride is coming ." He walked around me and left! 

Less than 5 min. later, I happened to glance out my bedroom window. Below, on the driveway was the pirate resting on his back. His head propped up by an over-stuffed bag. I shook my head in disgust.

Suddenly I saw his hand slip down into his pants. Curiously, I watched. I zoomed forward for a closer look banging my knee on the hassock. The noise startled him! Quickly he attempted to pull his hand from his pants. But his wrist caught on the belt buckle. Nervously he jerked his arm to pull it free. It was hilarious! 
 
Eventually, the work was completed. Hallelujah! Never would I have to see the lot of them again! -- Or so I thought.

About 3 or 4 years later, I happened to be at Sam's Club on a free pass. In a far corner near the exit stood Blackhead the Pirate, staring intently at me. I had to walk right past him to leave. I thought he might speak. But he said nothing. The creep just starred fixedly as I hurried past.

TINKERBELL THE CONTRACTOR

After my father and I moved to this house in 1999, we were told by the termite inspector that our home had rotting wood that needed to be replaced. Since my father chose to ignore this, I assumed the problem wasn't serious. Later when Dad suffered his stroke and terminal cancer was discovered, it seemed the least of our problems.

A year after my father's death, others told me it was urgent to replace the rotting wood. Because if a hurricane should hit, my house would fall apart! Well I started getting estimates from contractors, some were as high as $15,000.. HOT CAT PEE!!! That's a lot of money!!!

I had become friendly with an elderly widow in the neighborhood. She recommended someone whom she had recently hired. This person also attended her church. So I set up an appointment.

The contractor failed to show-up. And worse, didn't bother to call! This is one of my pet-peeves. I called other contractors for more estimates.

A week later, this contractor's office phoned. I informed them I wanted no further contact since they failed to keep the previous appointment. Profuse apologies ensued. Foolishly, I set up another appointment.

A large truck parked in front of my house. A blond midget in overalls and a baseball cap stepped from the vehicle. Soon, I could see it was a woman. As she approached, I could swear I was seeing an older, rougher replica of Tinkerbell plus 25 lbs.

Tinky made a wonderful 1st impression! She had lots of personality and humor. Also her husband was a retired minister. The price quoted was around $7000.. That included work done as a courtesy with no charge. I hired her on the spot! I figured a woman less likely to take advantage of another female. -- Wrong!

Later, when she brought the papers to be signed, I discovered the price didn't include replacement of the wood. I wanted to wait for more estimates. Tinky became incensed. Already she had rented a large machine for my second story. "I'm going to be out $40.! Because you can't make up your mind!" she hollered.

I felt sorry for her. In retrospect, I should have kicked her dirty overalls to the concrete! I lost way more than $40. as a result. 

I got another estimate ($10,000.) in writing. SHE SAID SHE WAS READY TO ROLL. I signed! A few days later, she arrived with the gigantic cherry-picker. It's massive weight cracked my cement driveway! "Oh we'll take care of that before we're finished," she assured, "Plus we'll use it to trim your trees at no extra cost!"

The cherry-picker was parked in my driveway unused for an entire month! She and her crew were on another job. Finally, they got around to me. I complained that the huge picker would also damage my sprinklers. "Oh don't worry," she assured, "I'm looking out for your sprinklers!" 

I thought, Lady you have X-ray eyes! My sprinklers are all underground! And sure enough, many were crushed!!!

That spring was unusually hot and humid. Her crew removed all screens from the windows on a Friday, to be washed the following Monday. A month passed, they did not return. In the meantime, I couldn't open the windows. I was forced to use my A.C. which I didn't want to do. I called her every single day!

The cherry-picker was gone and my trees untrimmed as promised. She denied making ANY of her promises! Repairs from their damage were left undone. Their clutter remained around my house.

Neighbors were complaining that if my father was alive the work would have been completed in 3 weeks. This job was now into the 5th month! But at least the wood had been replaced and the house painted.

A neighbor queried me about their paint job. He asked for a hand mirror. He held the mirror under the bottom wood of the house. "It's not been sealed," he stated, "No professional would let this slide."

Angrily, I continued to phone!

Annoyed, she said they could not be bothered with me now. I was curtly informed they had moved on to a MORE IMPORTANT JOB!!! 

I phoned the attorney who handled my father's estate. He sent a letter stating we would sue for damages to my property if the work was not completed within 2 weeks!

Well that got her attention!!! 3 days later she was back with the entire crew. I could feel the hostility from everyone!

They began by placing the dirty screens back in the windows. I ordered them to remove and wash them! -- That was the reason for removing them the previous month! 
  
They patched and painted my ruined driveway. It was a band aid solution. The cracks were all back a year later! I deducted the cost of my damaged sprinklers from their bill.


I inquired when they were going to straighten my brick walkway. Which was another thing she said would be done for free. Another promise she denied making! I asked her if Alzheimer's Disease ran in her family. That made her bristle. "You lied to me!" I hollered. She was silent. She didn't deny being a liar.

I related my ordeal to the elderly widow who recommended her.

"The more you talk, it jogs my memory," she confessed, "I had to threaten to get a lawyer after her! Otherwise, my repairs would never have gotten finished."

"Why on earth would you recommend someone like that to me?!" I demanded to know.

"I thought she had learned her lesson." The neighbor shrugged.