Each day, between 6:00 and 9:00 p.m, a technician from the moisture remediation company comes out to my house with that special moisture meter and checks a multitude of spots along the baseboards, floors and ceiling (or, lack of ceiling if truth be told) downstairs and then all the spots around common walls and floors of the two upstairs bathrooms.
I sit on the couch and go through the mail while he does this.
He comes down the stairs and I ask him, "Is it dry yet?" Because oh my goodness, have you ever had de-humidifiers in your house? Those things are amazingly good at owning up to their name. This house is as dry as the arid soil in west Texas. Seriously, I'm slathering lotion on my body every 20 minutes. And the technician tells me, "No, the floors are still wet, and the baseboards upstairs."
I roll my eyes.
Another night and day of three de-humidifiers and ten fans. My house is a noisy, windy whirl of breezes right now. And dry, so very dry. Except, apparently, for the walls and baseboards.
Someone pass the lotion, please.