I received smattering of good news the
other day. Beyond of course the
explosion of great news about our new grandbaby coming in April. Tuesday, you see, was the final remaining
deadline. The last of the opportunities.
The ultimate cutoff date, beyond which there is no other. And what, you may ask, is so significant that
it has to have numerous deadlines? Tuesday
was the last deadline for anyone – owner, lienholder, bank, family member,
distant relative – anyone – to step up and claim responsibility for the house
next door to us.
Yes.
The Ike damaged, still virtually untouched since the storm (which,
incidentally happened over four years
ago), stinky, rat-infested, siding-falling-off, porch teetering perilously,
walls bowing, mold-infested (whew)
house that we have been living right next door to. So what happens next?
Well, I made a phone call that I promised
would be made months ago to the guy in charge of such things down at the City
of Galveston offices. And he assured me
that he had just turned that house and two others over to his assistant for her
to get bids on for demolition. He also
said they “have some money that we are trying to get spent,” so he thought the
process in this case would really be fast-tracked. A little late to use the words “fast-tracked”
when it has already been four years, but exciting to hear anyway.
We have been wondering what will become of
the land after the house is removed. We
would be interested in buying it, but not at any exorbitant cost. Anyway, after four years, the only thing we
have left to do to complete our storm recovery is replace our interior
furnishings. That’s right, the great
majority of what we have furniture-wise was given to us by the many great
people who helped us after the storm.
Not that there is anything particularly wrong with it, but it’s just not
what Chris would have picked out. We
didn’t have any insurance money left after we got the house all rebuilt, so
that part of the process will be slow in coming. Hang in there, Chris. Meanwhile, maybe we can sell tickets to the
grand demolition …
Psalms 31:7-8 says, “I will be glad and rejoice in your love, for you saw my affliction and
knew the anguish of my soul. You have
not handed me over to the enemy but have set my feet in a spacious place.”
Father, thank you for the place you have
set our feet in. It has been good. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment