Yesterday was a memorable day, unfortunately not in a good way. We had our appointment with the insurance people. We are reasonably sure we have that sorted out, but I had to get us set up on line with the government offices (what do people do if they don't have a computer? The assumption is that everyone does!) So there were passwords and decisions and do you have any idea what a turn on it is to talk about death and catastrophic illness? (Answer: not much of one, I can assure you.)
We also had a romantic foray into Walmart to buy new filters for the vacuum, which they did not have. Amazon will have them here by Thursday, and since Tim bought himself a new table saw, turns out I had enough points to get them for free. So. There's that. Unfortunately, the sensuous Valentine's day Hoovering/vacuuming session was not possible. That sucked. (See what I did there?)
Tim headed up to the property to feed the deer. I was cooking a special dinner for two.
In the middle of all that, the discovery was made. One of our tenants, younger than us, had died of covid. We were not aware that he was sick. It came as quite a shock. I called Tim who came home immediately. We went straightaway to talk to his mother who lives two streets over. Our concerns were many, mostly, keeping his things safe, and how did she want that handled. He had never married but had a room mate, someone who was in a bad situation. A temporary situation had been going on for months and he was too soft hearted to handle it decisively.
How do we make sure that his stuff remains there, how do we get his room mate out legally, who's responsible for the utilities when a tenant dies (short answer: the property owners), how do you legally evict someone who's not on the lease (and someone who told me flatly: if he wants me out, he's going to physically have to throw me out. I'm not moving.) There were issues about who owned what.
Lot of questions, but it came clear that the first thing we needed to do was get in touch with the executer of the estate. so we went down to offer our condolences to his mother, and to make sure she had our number for when she felt up to getting her son's estate settled. He was our longest tenant. We had him for nearly 10 years, and he had come with the house. We thought a great deal of him. Our main worry was the room mate who seems to have some serious issues.
Mama had that sorted out. She does not have her son's tender heart. In a no nonsense way, she had gone to the house and said "You need to get out and you've got two weeks to do it." After arguing for months, after defiant refusals, the roommate listened meekly and said that she'd be out in a week. She was physically moving out even as we were speaking with mama.
God bless mamas. Once the room mate is gone, we can change the locks and give the mother the key to begin moving her son's stuff out. Mama is down there, in and out, overseeing what is being removed from the house. There has been no arguments.
We notified the other tenant in the building that he had passed and that if she saw the roommate out and about, it was probably not a good idea to give her a consoling hug. She believes that covid is a hoax.
That tenant had already known. No nonsense mama had put it in the paper: her boy had chosen not to be vaccinated, and he had died of covid. Like I said, she's a very no-nonsense woman, a social worker.
Turns out that multiple people had been trying to contact us to let us know all morning long, including mama and the other building resident and friends. That's how we discovered, after two tech visits and one maintenance call, that our phone is still not working properly.
I have spent 2 hours on my cell phone trying, once again, to get the house phone sorted out.
Definitely a day to remember. (At least dinner was good.)