Susie Rosso Wolf
Hit and miss is the only description I can give when attempting to explain John’s work schedule. Actually, let me switch that up to patchy, at best. One day he would be working away, and then next day he would be missing in action. It didn't take us very long to figure out that John had far too many irons in the fire and that he was taking advantage of the building boom going on in Montana with thousands of people transplanting themselves from Southern California to get away from precisely what we were escaping from. Who could blame them? But the weather was indicating that we were heading into another cold snap with winds out of the north whipping across the prairie from the mountains and onto our little lot of dreams and hope for the future. So we called John’s cell phone two, three and four times a day for three days until I became so infuriated by him ignoring us that I phoned the manager of Montana Homes of Belgrade to complain. Having been referred to us by MHB, I wasn’t too happy with the manager who gave me the run around but assured us that he would give John the message to call us. It was another day before he returned our call, with promises about being there the very next morning and apologies about not showing or calling but that he had been tied up on another house that he just had to finish. Another house more important than ours, apparently.