Eight years ago it came to my attention that one side of my house had gone ripply. It wasn’t a promising look, but I found it within the bounds of my sunny disposition to ignore it until flowering plants started growing out of the second floor. Ultimately it required all new siding and a considerable effort to evict deep rot and keep the tower from falling down. Effort, and money.

I learned to be more vigilant. By 2020 it was clear there were problems all over the place. It was a fungal epidemic. One window had rotted out beyond repair, and the replacement had to be fabricated to match, because the originals weren’t being made anymore. There was lots of problems to solve and it took more effort and more money but every year I examined things and fixed things and tried to keep the place from becoming entirely gelatinous.

This year, no exception. I eliminated a basement window and had two large windowsills covered in sheet metal. I filled soft spots in other sills with Bondo and sanded and primed and painted, I hired a man to try to save an oval window that had gone spongy, and then I noticed another section of the house was looking dismal; got on the ladder with a paint scraper and sandpaper ready to fight, but it was too far gone, and needs to be re-sided, so I got that in motion. You have to be on this stuff because it infiltrates your very foundations. It hides in the dark corners. Drop your guard, and it will rise again.

Finally I put the finishing touches on the window paint and was ready to hang up my tools for the winter, and I relaxed, pleased with my efforts. In fact I was upstairs admiring my Bondo job on the windowsills when it occurred to me to check the window sashes themselves. Somehow I’d never bothered to have a look. If you peer down at them from the inside through the glass, they look fine. But they can be tilted out and removed, so I decided to have a look, in case they needed a little touch-up too. Dare I say it? I was hopeful.

It was election day.

My lord. No paint left on the trim, in spots no trim left, little staples sticking out like bones and antlers after the meat is gone, bottom sash rail turning into custard! What? I was DONE with all this! I had worked hard for the last four years to repair all the damage! We were good to go! And now everything is turning to shit all over again! The likelihood is that at least four windows need to be replaced altogether. You think you’ve got the rot under control, but it ever creeps. It’s taking over again!

And now it’s keeping me awake at night. Again. Always the rot, and the disintegration, and the realization that what you once thought was solid can crumble at any time! What could be worse?

Well, honeys. I will tell you. The next day I discovered we have rats. Not just scurrying in the walls and the crawl spaces and the attic but right out in the open, not even trying to hide. In the house.

Senate looks bad too.