Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Bitter, bitter disappointment

Cookie is sure that Donna Lethal, Norma Desmond and MJ would share in his bitter disappointment.

Today, was supposed to be a day in which we got things done.  Instead, may day today was one in which I found myself vexed by others. 

Today I called the clock repair man who was to have restored our Riley Whiting Tall Case clock that "Uncle Roger should never get."  Said clock dates to about 1800, and runs using wooden gears.  It's a family piece, with a hand painted dial and chimes on the hour.  The clock came down through my mother in law's family.  Inside is a note with an envelope with a letter written by Husband's maternal grandfather in which he states that my mother in law's Uncle Roger "...could have had the clock, as it was offered to him, so he refused the clock.  If he asks for the clock, he is not to get the clock.  He could have taken it, but he declined.  So under no reason is her to get the clock."

Uncle Roger has been dead for a good fifty years, but still we remain resolute that if he asks for the clock, he may not have it. 

We paid the clock maker a cool $400 to get the clock (that Uncle Roger may not have) running and six months later he returned with the clock and it ran. It ran for 36 hours, and then it broke.  Something up there is jammed but good.  So I finally got a hold of the man and he says to me: "Well, what did you do to break it?"

I assured the man that we had done only what he recommended, and followed his instructions to the letter in winding it, but the man insisted that we had done something to it.  Just as Uncle Roger cannot have the clock, Cookie was not getting this blame laid upon my shoulders.  To wit the clock man said "Well it didn't break on its own."

I held my ground, but the crank can't get here again until Saturday, March 16th.  Can't wait.  I want to see his face when the two of us watch him when he sees the damned thing is busted.

My second vexatious moment came when the contractor arrived with the new windows for the sunroom. This was Husband's project.  We would remove the seven ugly 1970s casements, and replace them with Andersen Windows that matched the original casements.  These were ordered in DECEMBER, and we went through many hoops to get these windows approved by "The Review Committee".  

The installation has been postponed three times, but today the weather was lovely.  

We emptied out the room. 

The contractor showed up. 

And the factory produced the wrong color windows. 

Our windows were supposed to be Almond Sand.  Instead, the windows on the truck were "Clay".  And bless that installer's pea picking heart, he said "Mr. These own't look right and I don't want to install them if they won't look right."

So I called customer service.  They called people who called people.  At one point I was carrying a conversation with the installers, and a four way call with their home office. 

When the supervisor FINALLY made it out he said  "Your windows were supposed to be Almond Sand.  Instead, the windows they shipped were 'Clay'."

Thank you. 

So they are remaking the windows in the correct color.  Our estimated installation date is now May 15. 

Needless to say, it's been a day.  I wish I could have taken a message of inspiration from all of this, but tomorrow really is another day.  And our new windows will be the correct color, and that clock guy is going to make our clock right. 

In the end, everything will work out.  And if it doesn't?  I'll just be bitter again for that moment.   And Uncle Roger can't have the clock.


  1. In the words of Violet, Countess of Grantham: "Don't be defeatist, dear. It's so middle class."


    1. Oh, I think I shall win win the end. I may not crush them. Instead I will play the "disappointed" card, and then mention "Angie's List" in a subtle voice. In the end I shall be triumphant.

  2. jon, let's not call the kettle black.

    1. Oh, you bitch! Listen honey, I'm not the only Oldsmobile owner in these parts! Ad that is why I shall always love you.

  3. I may be wrong, but maybe Uncle Roger screwed up the window order because he's pissed about you breaking the clock?

    1. Uncle Roger may NOT have the clock. He repeats it seven times in a one page letter. And if need be I shall call Mother Marcus, Cannoga Falls leading medium, and have "her" convey that message.

  4. I've had fun replacing the word "clock" with "cock" throughout this entire post.