Fence
Kristie called Steve at work to tell him they'd received a violation from the building department. The violation said their fence was too tall and that they couldn't have a fence in their front yard anyways. It gave them until January 31.
Kristie was in a terrible state, complaining about the evils of living in a city where she had to shovel snow so people could get to the tracks but then couldn't put up a fence. She announced her plans to call the inspector and give him a piece of her mind and, come spring, to plant potatoes in the yard.
Steve was also upset, but for a whole different reason. The fence between their house and the tracks had been built before they moved in. It's almost 90' long, 6' tall and made of stone block. Removing it by the 31st would be a very difficult task indeed. He got the name of the building guy from her, then a promise that she wouldn't call him, then made some calls himself.
He called the inspector's office, but he wasn't in. He called Ken Lieber1 to ask advice, then his dad. His dad was surprised - he knew the building inspector and didn't think he was an unreasonable man. Then he asked the fateful question. "Could he mean that plastic fencing you put in to keep Dora in the yard?"
Steve was perplexed. Kristie had been pretty clear that it was the railroad, but his dad's idea made more sense. He called Kristie and she said "Of course it's the plastic one. I read that to you where it says 'PVC'".
She hadn't. Steve said "oh" then had to explain it all to the building guy (who did ask after his dad).
His parent's fixed the fence when he and Kristie went to see her family for the weekend. Crisis averted2.
- Real Estate man extraordinaire
- And, knock on wood, no potatoes so far (May 7).
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