Amazing what kind of filth can fester right under your nose, isn’t it?
Last week I stepped down onto the stairs that lead into my house (by the way, the only way in or out), and felt a spongy unpleasantness, followed by a soft snap – the mortar between the tiles exhaling their last.
Immediately I knew that this was an urgent matter, so I called my Guy. When he opened it up all suspicions were confirmed – I am the termite equivalent of a Vegas buffet: All you can eat, Baby, open 24/7.
Yeah, it’s bad. Probably been going on for a long time too.
Oh well, it’s over now. And I’m not worried about the termites starving – there’s lots more yummy houses on my block.
This demo was over in a flash – and could probably have been done with a soup spoon!