The unwelcomed house residents: mold

Y’all’ve been there. Y’all all recognize it when walking into a house with it

That musty smell. The smell of molds.

Molds are living organisms. They float through the air and reproduce by means of tiny spores invisible to the eye. They thrive on dampness and moisture.

That moisture could be in or behind walls, in carpet or carpet pads, in unsuspected locations like basements or a corner in a room once saturated through a leak in a roof.

Molds can enter through doorways, windows, vents, heating/cooling systems, around leaks in windows, pipes, roofs.

They’re stubborn and versatile little devils too. Molds grow well on cardboard and paper products, ceiling tiles, wood, clothing, shoes, in paint, wallpaper, insulation drywall, fabrics such curtains and furniture.

Pretty much any place in the home is susceptible when conditions — namely dampness — for reproduction are right.

Why the heck am I writing about molds?!

My new place has ’em. They’re noticeable the minute you enter. That musty wet carpet wet dog smell.

Except there is no dog!

What there is is carpet. Worn rust-brown shag carpet through the front room and hallway, tan plush carpet — the nondescript sort typical in apartments — in the bedrooms. Only the kitchen and bathrooms have linoleum flooring.

The smell permeates, even with the front door open for circulation.

Unfortunately, molds are about more than an unpleasant even reeking odor. They carry health risks and danger, particularly to those with vulnerable or compromised respiratory issues.

They can trigger allergic reactions like runny nose, red eyes, sneezing, rashes; to a worser extent, breathing difficulties, asthmas attacks, bronchial and lung issues.

Molds aren’t to be ignored or endured. They’re to be eradicated.

Question is: How?

Ah, the $10 million question!

They’re umpteen suggestions, ways, products to remove and prevent mold in homes, depending on the situation.

In my case, as a renter of a room in another’s home, I can only do so much — or little. Ripping out the carpet and replacing with hardwood flooring throughout — not an option! haha

Yet here’s the rub.

My primary vulnerability is the lungs. Respiratory issues. Dating back to 1975 when I was hospitalized with pneumonia. Followed a decade later by severe bronchitis, from which I never recovered. Two interesting stories, those.

That’s not the point. Point is: the respiratory system is my greatest weakness and susceptibility to harm. In fact, I’ve not had a common cold for decades!! It goes straight into bronchitis! (or worse)

So.

My concern about the molds and more importantly how to deal with them or reduce them — since I can’t obviously eliminate them in another’s house — lost me half a night’s sleep. Rampant insomnia (again). At 4 a.m., I finally caved. “Can’t take another sleepless night! In the final stretch of a big move, can’t AFFORD one more night in of the mountain of sleepless nights!” Rolled outta bed to down a sleeping pill.

So.

Molds. Spent last night researching non-toxic and low-cost approaches to mold reduction. Whether they’ll work remains to be seen. But I have to try them while respecting this one key fact: It’s not my home, it’s his. And yes, the owner/roommate notices the smell too.

So hopefully he’l appreciate rather than knock me down for my initiative and effort to address a very real problem. A stinking problem. A problem risky to health — even to those without respiratory vulnerability.

I’ve lived in damp environments. The cost to my health and well-being were irreparable.

I’d be lying if I wrote that I’m unconcerned. La-de-da. Whatever. It’s just molds. {shrugs shoulders} Live and let live. Laissez faire is denial or laziness in disguise.

I took yesterday off to give the muscles much-needed rest and recovery from heavy lifting the day before. Today I’m back in the game. Today’s goal: Get everything but the barest minimum (i.e., teakettle!) out and into the next space.

So I best get on it! Perhaps with a respiratory mask! hahah {?} Adios.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Mission Accomplished! Mostly.

It’s done! Mostly.

All the furniture, excepting this futon on the floor minus its frame, plus boxes and (too many) boxes of things are vacated. Apart from a few pieces that went  into my rental room, everything’s now in a storage unit. I’ll write about that another day.

Everything in yesterday’s move went swimmingly. The U-Haul truck — 20 foot no less! They didn’t have my requested 14-footer so gave me the 20-footer for the same price. The drive. The arrival of two moving dudes. The loading. The transport.

Only glitch was the unloading into the storage unit, which I did singlehandedly. A monsoon. A torrential downpour of thick balls of water and hail bouncing everywhichway. Of course! Just my luck! haha. Of course! Proving the weather forecasters wrong ah-gain. Nothing new under that sun! no pun intended.

Anyhow, the monsoon had me scurrying to get possessions, already wetted by the deluge, safely under cover and dried with a towel borrowed from the storage unit guy.

Then standing around waiting it out — losing precious time as I needed the task finished and truck returned before work.

Fortunately the storm passed and everything got done before my shift.

What a load off! For now. 😉

C ‘n’ C

To C&C — Celebrate ‘n’ Chill — how long has it been since I’ve done that?!? — I went out drinking at my favorite saloon on Whiskey Row. To show I meant business in Celebration and Chilling, after a Guinness, I ramped it up with rye whiskey cocktails. Note the “s.” 🙂

I didn’t stumble out or anything. I’m mindful of drinking and driving and not pushing that envelope. But the edge was definitely smoothed and the relaxation and interaction with other human beings sorely needed. (Note: I spend faaaar too much time isolated even when not busy shouldering moving tasks. Sad but true.)

Back home, with liquor coursing in my veins, I also ramped up the herbal sleeping aid to better my chance of sleeping. Severe chronic sleep deficit remains an ongoing issue (four years and growing); however, it’s really intensified these past few month/s due to domestic stress.

Mission accomplished, sort of. I slept soundly for some hours but still awoke a few hours too early.

Sweet Sleep, Where Art Thou? It’ll be interesting to see whether things improve in the next place.

Liquid Legs

Today I feel liquidy, rubbery. The outcome of beaucoup heavy lifting, excessive taxing demand on muscles and the aftereffects of alcohol and sleeping aids. Ain’t feeling bad, mind you! But ain’t a Get-Up-and-Go feeling either! And there’s plenty left to do yet! Things to pack and move. Spaces to clear out and clean. Etc. etc.

My enthusiasm level: 0.

How useful would be self-cloning!

Fatigue & Gratitude

In this deep pervasive fatigue, weariness of moving, waning enthusiasm for moving so fucking much (to illustrate, this is my 5th move in 2-1/2 years in this town alone), I’m relieved it’s over, almost.

I’m grateful for the help.

The two moving dudes. The new roommate. The nice lady at U-Haul. Even Mother Nature, who turned off the faucet of monsoons so that I might move in dry conditions (mostly). The saloon bartender who pours generously for his regulars {raises hand} :-).

I’ve written it before but it bears repeating: I’m grateful to have a place to go, a shelter, a room in another’s home in this transition. Homelessness was a real possibility. In the 11th hour, this room share was offered. The alternatives (i.e., another round of homelessness) weren’t, you know, good or desirable.

Especially for a working girl about to start a second PT job! The importance of showering regularly cannot be understated when you have a job (or two).

I’m grateful for a storage unit! Not easy to secure in this market where demand exceeds supply. And that I got my stuff in. It was challenging. It was close. Very close. Too close for comfort.

My muscles are chanting in chorus: No more! No more! Give us a day of rest! Give us a break! We need rest too! Like your mind!

So to respect their voices, I’m gonna take it easy today. Rest up a bit before hitting the home stretch hard tomorrow.

But I’ll admit: It’s VERRRRRRY hard to sit still or do little with so much left to do! With tons of tasks still staring me in the face as I scan my mostly-empty space.

I need WA — Workaholics Anonymous — for sure!

Guess that’ll do for today. Toodles.

Muscling Up for the Move

Now 24 hours away on the button.

The U-Haul rental. Two guy helpers. The move.

Most of what I have gets moved tomorrow, followed by little moves and cleanup for 5 days until the Aug. 31 final departure.

Insomnia struck again. I slept too little to know how I feel today – except tired. Frayed. Worn out. Tired of moving preparations. Worried about what’ll fit in my (little) rental bedroom.

Grateful for the space. To have been offered it and to George (roommate) to offer it. Fatigued and stressed though I be, knowing I have shelter cuts the worser stress of the potential alternative of homelessness. So I’m grateful in my fatigue. Soldiering onward as I do.

In the Home Stretch

Today, like every day for quite a while, is chockfull of Things to Do. Getting signed on with the storage unit. Carting a stack of pallets — they’re heavy — into storage to protect my things. Rearranging and tidying up stuff strewn around the house to clear the path for furniture moving mañana.

It’s a small mobile home so not a lot of places for stuff to go! Shove stuff to one wall to clear a path for X. Now restack same stuff  to that corner to clear a path for Y. The Dance of Stuff!

Stuff. Boy do I have stuff! Compared to most folks, I have very little. But to me who likes to travel light — ideally with only what my Subbie can hold — the minute I need a truck to move things, I’m overwhelmed and burdened on some level.

Not to suggest I don’t love my things! I do. All the more after a 15-year absence/separation. Furniture crafted by my dad is priceless. Photos of my life in Japan, including the love of my life. High school annuals and bound editions of the high school newspaper that I was on for 3 years. A coupla old laptops with tons of writing. Childhood photos.

I’m no packrat. Neither am I  sentimental for sentimentality’s sake, a common affliction among most Americans.

I am deeply selectively sentimental, however.

Every item I own gets scrutinized with every move — and there have been many! Like I said, this is around Move #55 but who’s counting?!? At 59, recollecting every place I’ve lived would be challenging!

Point is, meticulously sifting and scrutinizing and REALLY weighing the value of every item — it’s who I am, it’s what I do. I’ve also honed the skill through experience. I could teach people how to downsize. Or assist them.

Say It: Short

BTW, I’ll say it upfront: This move is temporary. For the short term. How long I’ll be in this room share and where I’ll go after it, who knows?!

I just know: Don’t get too settled. Stay light on your feet. Change is afoot! No word play intended.

Yeah, a truck and two dudes and lots of lifting … 24 hours away. No stopping this move now!

Feel like this space is vomiting me out. Or I’m vomiting it. What weird words to write!  Food for thought. Again, no word play intended.

Gratitude in the Upheavals

It’s happening, it’s all happening.

The move. Number 54 or so but who can keep count? Ain’t for nuthin’ I’m called the Moving Queen!

August: Arrrrrrghhhhhhh!

It was brutal. No relation to summer heat.

For various reasons, including a dearth of housing for both single living, i.e., studios, or room shares. Had nothing come through by this Sunday, Aug. 21, I had (emergency) Plan C, D & E gestating in my mind. All of which included putting everything into storage.

WHICH, I discovered, is a great business to get into in Prescott! Huge demand! Insufficient supply! If anyone needs a start-up idea, self-storage is it! You won’t hurt for customers.

Turns out, I’m going the storage route. But I jump ahead.

God Bless George!

I was one of two candidates he really liked for his rental room in his home. Another phone call, more questions, more answers and he opted to go with me! “You need it more, I think,” he commented. The other lady’s living at home with her folks.

He’s right. Without the room, I was looking at homelessness (again) or a modified version thereof. It’s kind of George to recognize, acknowledge and act on that observation.

And an observation it was; I’d said nothing on the matter upon meeting him and the room.

I’m so grateful:

  • that someone had my back in some way or fashion. Am accustomed to that and it is … comforting.
  • I’m so grateful that he’s opening his home in this time of need.
  • I’m so grateful to be provided:
  • a room in a safe, clean and nice home during this transition.
  • a room that’s affordable, offers a space for my own bed, clothes, shoes, other simple basics …
  • a room with a shower and a kitchen where I can feed myself, boil water for my beloved morning coffee. A room with quietude, privacy and Internet!

All the basics in this transition are covered.

On a personal note, it’s because I have been homeless — really, there are 25 articles at least waiting to be written, yearning to be heard! — and lived that hardship that I appreciate: shelter. a shower. water boiled on a stove instead of a little single propane burner with its flame flickering in the wind.

Everything else not essential in a room-share situation … goes into storage.

Speaking of Storage

I’m so lucky I found a self-storage space! Like I said, demand here is high and units scarce.

My unit comes with a blemish. There’s a leak. The owner can’t determine exactly where, only that rainwater sometimes runs down the back wall and puddles {here}.

Hence whatever I store there will be boxes, not valuable furniture,  put on a pallet and protected well with a tarp. A doable workaround in exchange for space for my things and a slight storage discount due to the leak. Yes!

Oh Ye of Little Faith

I admit, my f-word isn’t four letters, it’s five! Developing faith. It’s a lifelong lesson, mission, a significant player in my story.

As I dismantle my current home, move stuff out, declutter where I can and simplify — a process I undertake routinely, not just for relocations — I pause to reflect on the madness of the past few months.

And madness it was! This move was unplanned, unexpected, a tumultous whoosh of a wind moving me up and out after an argument with the landlord …

I’ve much to contemplate after the move

I’ve much to be grateful for. A room in a house with a gentleman who I sense is kind, direct, honest, fair and good. I like that!

Changes are ahead. They lie in wait. This room-share is temporary, like the new PT job I’m soon to begin. (Another post!)

Everything happened … so fast! Intensely. It’ll take a while to make sense of it all. In this moment, with tons of work still ahead for this move, I’m grateful:

to be safe after the whirlwind

to have shelter waiting … water, a bed, the means to prepare food

a second job (income) waiting in early September

Things I needed, fundamentally, came to be. In the 11th hour perhaps but arrive they did! Things worked out, despite the terrors and trains wrecks in my head. Which I’m learning to not do.

To every being up there and around me, protective guides, spirits, invisible presences and forces working in my favor (rather than against me): props to each of you for guiding, assisting, directing and helping in this time of tumult and turmoil. Bless you. The Light be of and with you.