Outside Kitties and… oh, no.

Today warmed up considerably, so I took the time to tromp around outside and check things out – posts about that, to follow.

In the process, I got to visit some of the friendlier outside cats…

Farm Cat

Beep Beep says hello.

Farm cat

The Butterscotch isn’t sure if she’s coming or going, but is very interested, either way!

 

and…touch the Butterscotch.

Farm Cat

“I will consider allowing you to touch my teeth. And my nostrils. But not to pet me.”

Butterscotch has been one of the more stand-offish of the outside cats, and usually stays just out of reach when I come by.  Friendly, but at a distance.

The cats seems to be really enjoying the warmer temperatures today.  Even the Mothman came sauntered through the deer feed.  We haven’t seen her in ages!

It was warm enough to stuff to even start melting!

Snowmelt

Drip. Drip. Drip.

There really should be a rain barrel under that downspout, but it’s on its side next to the house, frozen to the ground.

Unfortunately, we found a more problematic drip.

Dripping ceiling

Drip! Drip! Drip!

This is our bathroom ceiling.  The “tiles” are paneling, and the drips are at a seam between panels.

We couldn’t find where it was coming from, and it doesn’t seem to be dripping anywhere else.

As much as I loath to dump this on him, I contacted my older brother about this.  If this is from roof damage caused by the elements, it might be something that goes through the property insurance for a fix.

Not long ago, I was talking on the phone with my mom, and at one point, I brought up the sheer amount of work this place needs done.  My mother is blissfully unaware of how bad it was allowed to get.  At one point, she mentioned that she and my dad had paid for repairs to the roof.

My father passed away more than 1 1/2 years ago, and this place was empty for 2 years before we moved in.  I have no idea how long ago this work she was talking about happened but her concept of time is getting increasingly wonky.  She also seems to believe that once something like that has been done, it is fixed forever.  Hence her comments to us, when she was trying to talk us into moving out here, about how everything in the house was just “perfect.”  Everything was “perfect.”  We could just move in and not have to do anything.

In reality, there has been very little real maintenance done on anything for a very long time.  Not that there was much of an alternative.  My father was 92 when he went to the nursing home, and had been slowly failing for years.  My mother has been living in senior’s facility for even longer.  My siblings all have their own homes to take care of and lives to lead, so they couldn’t just drop everything to come here all the time.  It’s not that they didn’t do anything – they did tons.  They just couldn’t keep up with all of it, without actually living here.  Which is kind of why we’re living here now; our circumstances made us the only ones who really could do that.

But wow, is there going to be a lot for us to work on.

Years.  It’s going to take years.

It will be worth it in the end, but every now and then, it just kind of hits me, how much worse it was allowed to get than I expected.  And we’re still learning about what has been done.  It’s all been sort of piecemeal.

Meanwhile, it seems we have a leaking roof now.

The Re-Farmer

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