Sunday afternoon while I was sleeping, the Codes Inspector left me another voicemail. This one was much nicer than the first one.
"You are correct that since you have an approved Certificate of Appropriateness you may demo your porch. Once you have it demo'd, then provide measurements and a framing plan and your building permit should be approved. Continue on!"
I should not have called her back. I should've just let it go. The Dalai Lama would've just let it go. But I am not the Dalai Lama.
I called her back. I said, "I knew I was right. I knew that all I needed in order to tear off the porch was a COA, and I knew that I didn't need a building permit until I actually started building. You should have checked to see if I had a COA before you called me. You shouldn't assume that people are doing something wrong, especially not people who live in a Historic District and are restoring their homes. I had a very bad winter, which you know nothing about, so you don't know how much I looked forward to working on my house again this spring. You also didn't know how angry your voicemail made me [although I bet she did, since I was speaking through gritted teeth at the time] and how much it really set me back emotionally. You really pulled the rug out from under me, and you should apologize."
And after a bit of bickering, she did. Without admitting she was wrong, exactly, but I'll take it.
Dylan and his ax will be back Wednesday or Thursday, unless it snows.