Okay … you’re allowed to laugh at me.

About two weeks ago, a big portion of my bedroom ceiling collapsed, waterlogged after a heavy rain.

Yesterday morning, after another diabolical rain, I spent four hours filling and emptying eighteen buckets of water that came from above.

Today a repair guy named Eli inspected the scene, looking for a leak on the terrace of my upstairs neighbour.  No doubt some defect in the structure of our building, I thought.

At the front of my neighbour’s terrace, there is a metal channel that was full of water.  Here’s a photo, looking straight down to my terrace.  The channel is empty in this pic.

Eli went downstairs to my place.  The end of the pipe leading from up to down was clogged with leaves, and the bottom tube of my sofa was wedged into the hole.  He moved the sofa and pried out the leaves.

Et voilà!  A torrent of water

So … no building defect

Just a tenant defect, in the name of Bruce

I’ve lived here for about four years

And I’ve never checked the pipe

***

This is where the laughing part is allowed.  Less joyfully, the responsibility and the cost of my ceiling repair is mine.  As it should be.

Mea culpa