Adjustor Heaven After FEMA Hell

Well.

I've been in one of the quiet periods I seem to go through from time to time.

If you've sensed a hum of busy-ness emanating from my direction, though, you'll feel it's a different quiet period than usual.

And if you're tired of hurricane news, better stop reading.

A couple weeks ago, the insurance adjustor finally made it out. After FEMA Dave From Hell, the adjustor - I'll call him DB - was one of the most knowledgeable, professional, yet down-to-earth people in his line of work that I've ever met. Courteous and efficient. Fair. All those qualities I respect the most in anyone. Damn good-looking, too.

What an intense relief. The adjustor's the one that counts, you see. Everything I want fixed or replaced or whatever, everything flows from the adjustor's report.

DB spent a lot of time up on the roof. It doesn't look that bad at first glance. As FEMA Dave so carefully pointed out, the trees on the roof didn't puncture through-and-through. They just banged it up a lot. And DB took the time to trace all that out.

I live-blogged Hurricane Wilma. Soon after the winds got real, my 20-foot queen palm started leaning down. She moved ever so slowly, with majestic grace. It took hours. Finally she landed in the canopy of my big orchid tree, splitting its trunk and bursting its beautifully pruned and shaped branches. Then the whole kit and caboodle landed on the roof, together. And pounded and pounded and pounded on the roof over my head.

I was running on inverter power since early in the storm, blogging and watching TV news coverage. I signed off my blog just as the trees were making their final descent. They could easily have come through my home office's south window, a few feet from my chair, so I wanted to move away.

Just then, the east window blew out and the hurricane came in the house.

The TV I was watching is a big old 26" set. It sits right in front of that east window, on top of a little table with drawers where I keep my meds. The broken glass flew by my left ear. I've been picking bits of glass out of the back of the TV ever since.

kdad came to visit over Christmas. He's an unexcitable, classically phlegmatic scientist. But when he looked over the TV and window he said, --That TV probably saved your life.

I hadn't really thought of that before. He's right. The TV blocked the glass that might have decapitated me. Instead the glass flew by my left ear.

Chills went up my spine.

I spent most of the rest of Wilma boarding that window, hacksawing and predrilling plexiglass to size, working hard and fast, listening to the trees pounding the roof over my head. slam! crunch scrape BLAM! scrape scrape SCREECH! ...quiet... SLAM SLAM SLAM SLAM SLAM! groan...

DB asked how old the roof was. I said, at least nine years old. We hadn't put one on since we bought the house. The previous owner'd told us it was *a few years old* - FWIW.

The adjustor said the roof could probably get by with a good repair if it weren't in such bad shape to begin with. Problem is, a roof that worn out won't hold a repair.

Makes sense.

He said he'd put in for a whole new roof and we'll see what the insurance company said. To the credit of their good sense, they approved it.

I can't begin to express how relieved I am.

The adjustor took lots of pix and measurements, wrote up his report, and put together the claim for the roof, fences, and other damage to the structures. They have computer programs that crunch that stuff out. I showed him furniture damaged by branches and glass and water, blown hard and fast through broken windows and under the front door - despite the deep porch roof and the high threshold.

I showed him my fried appliances and electronics, the ironing board that went spinning, walking upright through the office when the hurricane came in, knocking things around. I showed him the weird plumbing problems, how the outside faucet had started a leak I couldn't shut off, even after I attached a brass hose nozzle to block it.

He said to get estimates on contractor repairs, since without funds, I couldn't afford to get anything actually fixed yet. (Not even leaking plumbing.) For the furniture and such, get the repair guys to make estimates for what can be fixed, and list what has to be replaced. If I can't find the exact model of something, use a current item as similar as possible. Back everything up with receipts and photos. Put it all together in one package - not piecemeal - and send it in.

Sensible.

I double-checked with Citizen's. Good approach? Yup. They gave me the address to send it to and language to include in my cover letter. This is a *Supplemental.* [Claim, no? but if they don't want good English, I won't encumber them with it.]

So you see, I've been busy ever since.

I'm almost done with my Supplemental. Then, the intense drive to take care of Hurricane Stuff will finally morph into a more normal-life line of work.

Right in the nick of time. The first wave of really bad tree pollen came through mid-January, knocking me off my feet. My *good* time of year - part of December and January - is already over.

That rollercoaster car just clicked into place on the line. It's moving on out of the boarding station, slowly, so slowly at first, then it just catches, and your heart thuds a beat and even though it's not even picking up much speed yet, you know what's coming down the line...