I am too traumatized to add anything to that title. I'm going to assume most people here have had their share of home maintenance trauma and canadd details.
It all started relatively calmly (as so many sudden and terrible events do) with a simple question, "Don't you think that old, rusty gutter with the holes in it makes our freshly mulched yard look less attractive? Doesn't it sort of…well, stick out like a sore thumb now?"
My spouse, being tactful and very smart, said simply, "Yes" . No elaboration. No suggestion about if or when we should deal with that horrible, rusty and useless gutter. So I said, "You know, I' think I'll just grab some industrial strength wire cutters from your antique collection in the back of the garage."
Well! You'd have thought I was suggesting we sell one of our kids or something. Suddenly he sprung into action and ran for those wire cutters as if he didn't want me anywhere near them! Then he even got out a ladder and proceeded to start cleaning out that gutter before we wrestled it to the ground.
It was full of stuff that sickens me to think about. The stench was unbelievable. Yes, we've had gutter guards but all they did was managed to keep the stuff on top of the gutter guards. We were both retching. But we managed to endure.
Then came the best part (or it would have been if I'd had a video camera instead of standing under the ladder, looking up). As my husband was cutting through the last thingamabob metal piece holding the gutter to the house, the gutter decided to fight back. It had become attached to our home, apparently! But at last it gave a sudden lurch, spewing out obscenities and even more sewage or…whatever that stuff was. Bacteria everywhere, from the look and smell of it. I was trying not to breathe…at…all.
The we had to wrestle the thing to the ground, with the gutter groaning and moaning the whole time and both of us trying to keep from getting gouged and dying at the same time of some horrible bacterial infection, leaving our teen to have year round parties and go through what little inheritance he would receive. We figured he'd be bankrupt in about 10 days.
The good news? We persevered. We won. Then my husband ran, retching for the shower, with me hot on his heels, also retching, and with antibacterial spray in my hand. We both shed our shoes before entering the house.
What an ordeal! So how is everyone else's day going?