Long November in a Cockroach Kitchen

A house in need of renovations off Hilltop Lane in Annapolis--that's where I've spent a second shift each day of this week. The work was varied: tearing up mangy, dust-laden carpet, nostrils full of spackle dust, and a kitchen taken hostage by prehistoric pests. Much like the A Team, the Expendables, or GI Joe, an elite house renovating force pitched in to make the most of the work.



Tim and Andrew, a pair of Cornell Hotelies, made a deal to buy, manage and rent out a two-story town house at 3 Merle Court, Annapolis, Maryland. Though the details of the sale are kept in confidence, it is reported that this is the first purchase for these two real estate moguls-soon-to-be-tycoons. The house is a three bedroom dwelling, with two rooms in the basement, two and half bathrooms, living room, kitchen, and separate dining room.

The most recent occupants were a very large colony of cockroaches that Tim, Andrew, and an exterminator tried to scare aware with bombs, bait, and poison. Ryan has spent the last three days attacking the colony head on, making gradual but sure movement taking the campaign to their principal front: the walls, floors, and cabinets of the kitchen. The biggest blow was dealt on Friday night when he found that a hard plastic bristle and hot water heavy with ammonia, when scraped infinite times in the same direction removes caked grease, the waste balling up into small brown grey pellets at the end of the brush. Never has anyone been so happy to see anything that looked so much like rat droppings.

In the meantime, Ashley, Andrew, Tim, and the non-stop parade of kind-hearted volunteers who have streamed through the house this week have principally tackled the sanding, spackling, and painting of the other rooms of the house. Beth and Heather were early recruits, soon followed by out of town special teams unit Jason and Mary Ann. The military consultants Commander Davis and Captain Cantner headed up quality control; but it was the family elements--the Rockville Eskelson's and Papa John--that made the place cheery, the key weapons being children's laughter and Hawaiian-style pizza.

Thus, tomorrow will be the last day that Tim inhabits the lease of the John Rich 124 Prince George Street downtown dwelling; we'll be moving the clothes, cooking gear, and mattresses over to the new place sometime tomorrow evening where the very close to habitable house will be an even more present reminder of whatever work remains to be done.