If one of the plumbing issues is the sewer line, said issue is magnified to the power of 10.
If the roof leak exceeds one inch of water in the specified leak pail – a brown Bee Mop pail vintage mid-1980s – per hour during a torrential downpour, the problem is ranked catastrophic and we flail our arms about in fits of high anxiety, because since installing a never-fail 50-year metal roof, we are philosophically opposed to acknowledging any incoming water. Also, the metal roof is too slippery for us to attempt repairs, so help must be called in. This means money. If we are philosophically opposed to anything more than acknowledging a leaker, it is to spending more money on this 60-year-old plywood shack.
Also, our new black lab won’t swim. It’s bad enough to have a cottage that stumps us, do we have to have a malfunctioning water-dog as well.
And that’s the first day from the lake, where the loons are calling, but no one knows who, and we haven’t sold the place yet.
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