The worst vacations are the ones you had no choice but to take.
It started out as a simple project. We just wanted new windows.
OK, well, maybe that isn’t so simple in terms of homeowner projects. Windows are complicated and expensive. But getting new windows shouldn’t end with being displaced from your home on a forced vacation. Ah, but I’m getting ahead of myself. My point is, something else clearly had to go wrong to kick off the comedy of errors. That “something” was the discovery of mold on the windows, a result of living for years with blown seals effectively erasing their insulating properties. Cold outside air meeting hot inside air means condensation, which means persistent warm moisture, which means mold.
What do you do when you have mold? Well, you call a mold inspector to see what you’re dealing with. The mold inspector will help you find out what type of mold you’re dealing with and how alarmed you should be. He or she will also look everywhere else to see where you might have additional problems. In this case, we had “additional problems” in the attic and in the basement. Oh dear, the problems are multiplying.
For those fortunate enough to not know, the next step is remediation. That’s when you call a specialized contractor to kill, clean, and otherwise decontaminate the mold on the surfaces and in the air. They use a combination of tools and chemicals to do this, all of which are billed as safe for humans and pets. As such, we felt no need to move out of the house while this work was taking place.
“Sometimes you just gotta know when to bail.”
In the morning two days into the remediation project, three things happened in rapid succession.
1. Most of the members of the household developed slight headaches.
2. We received a phone call from our dog’s daycare that she had developed a cough. They feared it might be bordetella (aka “kennel cough,” a highly contagious canine illness) and asked us to pick her up. She would not be able to return to doggie-daycare or boarding until 10 days cough-free. Put a pin in that.
3. The cat, while at a routine vet appointment, started bleeding profusely from his nose. He kept bleeding actively for about 20 minutes.
Any of these in isolation would be alarming, but all three happening within an hour of each other put us into Red Alert. It became immediately clear that none of us, human or pet, could stay in this house while the work was taking place. In fact, the veterinarian from #3 above recommended three days to let the house vent of potential toxins.
That same vet clued us into a hotel in nearby Devens that accepts both cats and dogs (remember that pin I said to place above, we can’t send the dog to boarding because they think she might have kennel-cough, so she’s stuck in the hotel with us). Within an hour, I had made a three day reservation and filed a short notice time off for myself at work. While I scrambled to pack clothes and pet supplies, Stephanie bought a new medium-size dog crate to house our poor bloody-nosed cat during our stay. Despite having two kids still in school and contractors still actively working in our home, the Morse family was officially going on vacation.
Stephanie coined the excellent portmanteau “stayvacuation,” and it stuck.
Welcome to Devens, a place that definitely exists.
So, Devens, MA is a strange town, in that it’s not really a town at all. It is the repurposed remains of a massive decommissioned military base, with some still-active National Guard grounds at its center. Lots of fencing now dressed as decoration, unorthodox signage, and massive open fields. It’s also a Superfund site due to some unfortunate groundwater contamination, which prevents any significant development from taking place.
Fortunately, it has a hotel. Specifically, a pet-friendly Hilton Garden. We checked in on Thursday knowing that the Devens Commons would be the sight we’d wake up to for the next four days, two of which would be school days.
Poor Simba was not a fan of these accommodations, finding himself locked in a small crate with a litter pan. Anti-anxiety medications took the edge off. Ultimately, he’s an old cat, and while confinement was far from ideal, he could be left alone.
The dog was a different story. She would lose her fucking mind two seconds after being left alone in a strange room, even if we had room for a second crate, which we really didn’t. Dog-owning parents know this dance, but turn up a difficulty with the hurdles of having to eat every meal out and still managing the school shuffle and work. Either the dog had to be out and about with us, or one adult had to stay behind.
To be honest, the next four days were a blur. Breakfast diners, walking paths, a well-utilized hotel pool all featured prominently. The highlight was a pool party hosted by family friends, which provided an entire half a day distracting us from the fact that we could not go home. Unfortunately, I had to go with the kids myself. We couldn’t leave the dog, remember?
Thus it was that Stephanie and I spent our 10 year anniversary living out of a hotel room, barely seeing each other.
This was a moment, but all moments pass. We stayed safe. The kids played in a pool, Simba stopped bleeding, and Chocolate found her way back to good health. A long weekend in small room didn’t break us. Over the course of those days in a hotel room, the house ventilated and we came home Monday afternoon to a safe, mold-free home.
Or so we thought.
TO BE CONTINUED.