A few decades ago, there was a fairly significant U.S. Supreme Court case in which the Justices struggled to define pornography. The closest they could get was Potter Stewart's oft-quoted description: "I know it when I see it." That basically sums up how Shaw and I will know when the house is truly finished.
Last week the garage walls were finished and painted, the new doors went up (and down, and up, and down...), the window was painted and I even installed new blinds. It looks so clean (except for the floor - too cold to do anything now) that we don't even recognize it. But our cars are thrilled, having been banished to the driveway since March. And, after having to clear almost two feet of snow off the cars last week in order to dig them out, so do we.
The 11 feet of counter and cabinets were installed in the basement laundry area last week too, containing four wide drawers that hold all of our gift wrapping supplies in addition to light bulbs, Logan's stuff and other household items. We call it the Candy Spelling Room. Almost all of the punch list items have been resolved. When I showed the list to one of the workers who's done the tiling, some sheetrock and painting, he came over to feel my forehead. "You must be sick," he said, "this list is so short - it can't be you." Tomorrow the crew will return to empty the last remnants from the trailer outside, just a few boxes and other items that will go into the garage. The next item on my to-do list is to find cabinets and shelving for both the garage and the workspace in the storage part of the basement, so we'll actually be able to find things when we want them.
We've decided, though, that we won't feel as if the house is really complete until both the trailer and the porta-potty are gone from the lawn. When we see that, we'll know it.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
The Width of a Wheatie Flake
That's how my father used to describe anything that was so close you couldn't see the space between it and the finish line. Which is how I feel about the house.
My dad loved our house and everything we did to it. As this week marks three years since he died, I've been thinking a lot lately about how he'd regard our little project. Provided we didn't tell him how much it cost I think he'd be pretty damned impressed.
We're still almost finished. The basement is more or less set up, except for the cabinets and countertop in the laundry area that are due to be installed this week. Considering it's still mostly an unfinished basement it really does look like an operating room. My study is newly painted and all put back together, and I can even get to my desk.
Which leaves the garage. The old doors were removed last week and the openings covered with plywood, which gives the outside of the house an "Early Katrina" look about it. The ceiling and walls have been sheetrocked, but matching new ceiling rafters to the old - as well as closing in the walls - has apparently been more than a match for the wall guys. Some of the seam lines look like EKG's, and with the new doors scheduled to be installed tomorrow it's a bit of of a race against time. But there's a crew there today so we're keeping our fingers crossed.
The trailer is still on the front lawn, morphing into the slowly melting snow around it. Right now it's holding lots of stuff from the garage so we can't empty it just yet, but we're hopeful there will still be something of a lawn left when they take it away.
At this time three years ago we were in the middle of the window replacement/family room redo project. I remember having over 40 people standing in our family room one late December night for a shivah service, with no sheetrock on the walls and a bare cement floor. We managed; nobody cared. I also remember our wedding by the pool five months later, my mom's 70th and 75th birthday celebrations, Thanksgivings and a photo album full of wonderful gatherings. Our house is a home, no matter what.
But we still want those garage doors.
My dad loved our house and everything we did to it. As this week marks three years since he died, I've been thinking a lot lately about how he'd regard our little project. Provided we didn't tell him how much it cost I think he'd be pretty damned impressed.
We're still almost finished. The basement is more or less set up, except for the cabinets and countertop in the laundry area that are due to be installed this week. Considering it's still mostly an unfinished basement it really does look like an operating room. My study is newly painted and all put back together, and I can even get to my desk.
Which leaves the garage. The old doors were removed last week and the openings covered with plywood, which gives the outside of the house an "Early Katrina" look about it. The ceiling and walls have been sheetrocked, but matching new ceiling rafters to the old - as well as closing in the walls - has apparently been more than a match for the wall guys. Some of the seam lines look like EKG's, and with the new doors scheduled to be installed tomorrow it's a bit of of a race against time. But there's a crew there today so we're keeping our fingers crossed.
The trailer is still on the front lawn, morphing into the slowly melting snow around it. Right now it's holding lots of stuff from the garage so we can't empty it just yet, but we're hopeful there will still be something of a lawn left when they take it away.
At this time three years ago we were in the middle of the window replacement/family room redo project. I remember having over 40 people standing in our family room one late December night for a shivah service, with no sheetrock on the walls and a bare cement floor. We managed; nobody cared. I also remember our wedding by the pool five months later, my mom's 70th and 75th birthday celebrations, Thanksgivings and a photo album full of wonderful gatherings. Our house is a home, no matter what.
But we still want those garage doors.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Mi-Mi-Mi-Miiiii.....
Friday, December 4th. While she hasn't sung quite yet, the fat lady is definitely approaching the microphone. This week, the new cabinet fronts were installed in the dining room (the ones we'd ordered in the first place, that is), the railings along the stairs in the family room and basement were put up, all the hardware was placed on the kitchen cabinets (except the one that still isn't in), Sparky installed all the smoke and carbon monoxide detectors (one keeps yelling "FIRE! FIRE!" and we had to unplug the damn thing until he comes back next week to replace it) and the Spiderman ceiling fan in Shaw's study (if you have to ask...), the carpets and furniture were all cleaned, the table and chairs for the kitchen were delivered, and UV protective film was put on the new windows. The final inspections have been scheduled for next Monday, which means the only actual work left for the contractor is the garage, installing some cabinets in the laundry area of the basement, and painting my study. The rest is up to us, as we still need to unpack and clean an awful lot. But again - she's at the microphone.
I've decided to look at this entire experience as a learning exercise, as I know I've learned quite a bit in terms of how to plan for, manage and live through a major remodeling project. Most of what I've written on these pages has been anecdotal - although all true - yet there are many pearls of wisdom which I would be remiss if I failed to share. So, my final entry - which may or may not be the next one, depending on how the next few weeks go and what befalls us - will be sort of a debriefing memo containing advice and suggestions for anybody contemplating a similar endeavor.
Monday, December 7th - another date that will live in infamy. We passed all of our inspections!
She's clearing her throat, folks.
I've decided to look at this entire experience as a learning exercise, as I know I've learned quite a bit in terms of how to plan for, manage and live through a major remodeling project. Most of what I've written on these pages has been anecdotal - although all true - yet there are many pearls of wisdom which I would be remiss if I failed to share. So, my final entry - which may or may not be the next one, depending on how the next few weeks go and what befalls us - will be sort of a debriefing memo containing advice and suggestions for anybody contemplating a similar endeavor.
Monday, December 7th - another date that will live in infamy. We passed all of our inspections!
She's clearing her throat, folks.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Ho-Ho-Home
As yet another illusory deadline sails past us like a rotted log floating by during a canoe trip, it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas as the new target completion date. Not including the garage, of course (more later). Although, I must admit that in spite of Thanksgiving week consisting of only three work days, an awful lot was accomplished.
On Monday, the plumbers, electricians, carpenters, painters and tile guy were all on site. All of the kitchen appliances and the sink were installed, and the electric outlets and lights were all hooked up. The base molding was finished, the living room and foyer painted along with the basement walls being touched up, and the tile backsplash in the kitchen was grouted and complete. On Tuesday, the family room, kitchen and upstairs hall were all painted and the basement carpeting installed, and on Wednesday the house was cleaned - pretty much - by the contractor's guys who also moved the furniture out of the trailer and back into the living, dining and family rooms. The garage was cleaned out, with all that stuff being moved into the now-almost-empty trailer. I stayed home, and thus began a five-day campaign to get the house looking as livable as possible by the end of the holiday weekend, by arranging furniture, hanging pictures, setting up lamps - whatever.
Also on Wednesday Sparky stopped by to put the recessed light trims in the kitchen and install the bulbs, now that the ceiling had been painted. That night, five of the bulbs in the 11 fixtures popped at various times during the evening. And when Shaw plugged the new TV into one of the electric outlets near the kitchen counter, nothing happened. At all. It wasn't the TV, so clearly there was some sort of electrical problem. As we were going to be out for several hours on Thursday, I called our contractor on Thanksgiving morning with some concern. I told him what was going on and he said he'd call right back. About three minutes later Sparky called and I explained the situation about the popping bulbs and my fear of a possible short-circuit. He told me that it must be a defective batch of bulbs, and said that if there was a short they would all pop and a breaker would trip. Okay, that sounds plausible.
When I told him about the dead outlet, he told me that particular outlet is connected to a GFI across the room (that's one of those rectangular outlets you see in kitchens and bathrooms - anywhere near water - with a little reset button on it). Sparky asked if the GFI's green light was on - I said no. He told me to push the reset button, I did, and the light came on. Then he said we should try the dead outline again, and lo and behold it worked. End of crises. About 30 minutes later the contractor called back to see if everything had been taken care of. And all of this was on Thanksgiving morning. Which is one of the many reasons why, despite the relative lack of speed and some shall we say quirky contractors, we'd use this company again any day.
Now, about that garage. As I've probably mentioned, ours has no interior walls or ceiling - just the framing and exterior sheathing. Apparently that was code back in 1961. We'd included finishing the garage in the original plans, but as we knew the space would be needed for storage and work prep during the bulk of the project, this piece would be left for last. Now that the rest of the house is all but complete I thought we'd start on the garage, but our contractor suggested that we wait until we have the final inspection for the house. This way, the inspectors can give their much sought-after approval, and then we can do the garage work without having any of the problems we ran into with the basement when we were told we needed revised plans from the architect.
Now that's a plan.
On Monday, the plumbers, electricians, carpenters, painters and tile guy were all on site. All of the kitchen appliances and the sink were installed, and the electric outlets and lights were all hooked up. The base molding was finished, the living room and foyer painted along with the basement walls being touched up, and the tile backsplash in the kitchen was grouted and complete. On Tuesday, the family room, kitchen and upstairs hall were all painted and the basement carpeting installed, and on Wednesday the house was cleaned - pretty much - by the contractor's guys who also moved the furniture out of the trailer and back into the living, dining and family rooms. The garage was cleaned out, with all that stuff being moved into the now-almost-empty trailer. I stayed home, and thus began a five-day campaign to get the house looking as livable as possible by the end of the holiday weekend, by arranging furniture, hanging pictures, setting up lamps - whatever.
Also on Wednesday Sparky stopped by to put the recessed light trims in the kitchen and install the bulbs, now that the ceiling had been painted. That night, five of the bulbs in the 11 fixtures popped at various times during the evening. And when Shaw plugged the new TV into one of the electric outlets near the kitchen counter, nothing happened. At all. It wasn't the TV, so clearly there was some sort of electrical problem. As we were going to be out for several hours on Thursday, I called our contractor on Thanksgiving morning with some concern. I told him what was going on and he said he'd call right back. About three minutes later Sparky called and I explained the situation about the popping bulbs and my fear of a possible short-circuit. He told me that it must be a defective batch of bulbs, and said that if there was a short they would all pop and a breaker would trip. Okay, that sounds plausible.
When I told him about the dead outlet, he told me that particular outlet is connected to a GFI across the room (that's one of those rectangular outlets you see in kitchens and bathrooms - anywhere near water - with a little reset button on it). Sparky asked if the GFI's green light was on - I said no. He told me to push the reset button, I did, and the light came on. Then he said we should try the dead outline again, and lo and behold it worked. End of crises. About 30 minutes later the contractor called back to see if everything had been taken care of. And all of this was on Thanksgiving morning. Which is one of the many reasons why, despite the relative lack of speed and some shall we say quirky contractors, we'd use this company again any day.
Now, about that garage. As I've probably mentioned, ours has no interior walls or ceiling - just the framing and exterior sheathing. Apparently that was code back in 1961. We'd included finishing the garage in the original plans, but as we knew the space would be needed for storage and work prep during the bulk of the project, this piece would be left for last. Now that the rest of the house is all but complete I thought we'd start on the garage, but our contractor suggested that we wait until we have the final inspection for the house. This way, the inspectors can give their much sought-after approval, and then we can do the garage work without having any of the problems we ran into with the basement when we were told we needed revised plans from the architect.
Now that's a plan.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Nishtugadocht
My grandmother - a woman of many gifts - had a marvelous way with words, both in English and Yiddish in which she was fluent. The Yiddish language is rather elastic, in that many words can only be loosely translated which gives them great flexibility to be used in a variety of contexts. They can also be used as a noun or a verb or perhaps even an adjective. For instance, the word 'schlep', which roughly means an arduous trek. You can schlep, as in "you want us to schlep all the way to the beach?" or something can be a schlep, such as "it was such a schlep from the car to the beach."
Another popular word is 'kvetch', which involves complaining. One can kvetch, such as "all he does is kvetch about his 401(k)", or else be a kvetch, as in "she is such a kvetch about losing her money." One of my favorite words is 'farbissineh,' meaning a miserable or unhappy person. But, somebody can be a farbissineh (noun), or else have a farbissineh face (adjective).
A word used often by my grandmother was "nishtugadocht," describing a situation or person involving bad luck, or somebody who couldn't get out of their own way - a sad sack, if you will. "He's such a nishtugadocht, breaking his leg like that." Or, upon hearing that an unfortunate event had befallen somebody she knew, exclaiming "oy, nishtugadocht," as if to say 'how unfortunate.' My grandmother would have been the first to agree that our electrician is a real nishtugadocht.
One of the more minor aspects of our remodeling was installing a real doorbell, in place of the wireless type we had that hadn't worked right since we'd moved in. As we planned to relocate and replace the front door - with the walls to be resheetrocked - we had Sparky run a wire from the doorframe down to the basement. Plus another wire to where the chime would go inside of the foyer next to the door. Compared to the virtually complete rewiring of most of the house, this was really small potatoes. And, when the sheetrock was put up they drew the wires through so everything could eventually be hooked up.
Thursday, November 19. Sparky is here to do more of the electrical finish work, including the doorbell, outside button and chime hookup, as well as running a new line for the dryer which he couldn't tell was not powered by gas. Shaw calls me from home to say that Sparky doesn't want to install the recessed doorbell button I'd bought, as he'd have to drill a hole into the doorframe and doesn't know what he'll hit. It's a doorframe, I reply, plus he ran the wire so he knows what's back there. He wants to put in a surface-mount so he won't need to drill. Screw it, I reply, I'll put the damn button in myself. I hang up, and later learn that one of the carpenters overheard this discussion and put the button in for Sparky, thus sparing him the arduous task of drilling an approximately 1/2 inch hole.
Shaw calls back about an hour later to tell me that apparently the wire in the wall to the transformer (which Sparky didn't have with him and Shaw had to run out and buy) had somehow gotten cut in the basement, and a large hole had to be made in the foyer wall in order to run a new connection. Sparky had no idea how this had happened. Everything will be patched, but the walls are really beginning to look like a quilt.
That night I come home to see the extent of the respackled damage. I also note the cabinet light that was installed backwards, along with the motion detector that Sparky had hooked up to a wire I'd already shown him had been cut and needed to be replaced. I guess he'd forgotten - it had only been a week since we'd gone over it.
Later, Sparky calls to ask me if I'd seen a box of circuit breakers, since he thought he'd left them here and needs them for another job. No, they weren't here, I check.
Oy, nishtugadocht.
Another popular word is 'kvetch', which involves complaining. One can kvetch, such as "all he does is kvetch about his 401(k)", or else be a kvetch, as in "she is such a kvetch about losing her money." One of my favorite words is 'farbissineh,' meaning a miserable or unhappy person. But, somebody can be a farbissineh (noun), or else have a farbissineh face (adjective).
A word used often by my grandmother was "nishtugadocht," describing a situation or person involving bad luck, or somebody who couldn't get out of their own way - a sad sack, if you will. "He's such a nishtugadocht, breaking his leg like that." Or, upon hearing that an unfortunate event had befallen somebody she knew, exclaiming "oy, nishtugadocht," as if to say 'how unfortunate.' My grandmother would have been the first to agree that our electrician is a real nishtugadocht.
One of the more minor aspects of our remodeling was installing a real doorbell, in place of the wireless type we had that hadn't worked right since we'd moved in. As we planned to relocate and replace the front door - with the walls to be resheetrocked - we had Sparky run a wire from the doorframe down to the basement. Plus another wire to where the chime would go inside of the foyer next to the door. Compared to the virtually complete rewiring of most of the house, this was really small potatoes. And, when the sheetrock was put up they drew the wires through so everything could eventually be hooked up.
Thursday, November 19. Sparky is here to do more of the electrical finish work, including the doorbell, outside button and chime hookup, as well as running a new line for the dryer which he couldn't tell was not powered by gas. Shaw calls me from home to say that Sparky doesn't want to install the recessed doorbell button I'd bought, as he'd have to drill a hole into the doorframe and doesn't know what he'll hit. It's a doorframe, I reply, plus he ran the wire so he knows what's back there. He wants to put in a surface-mount so he won't need to drill. Screw it, I reply, I'll put the damn button in myself. I hang up, and later learn that one of the carpenters overheard this discussion and put the button in for Sparky, thus sparing him the arduous task of drilling an approximately 1/2 inch hole.
Shaw calls back about an hour later to tell me that apparently the wire in the wall to the transformer (which Sparky didn't have with him and Shaw had to run out and buy) had somehow gotten cut in the basement, and a large hole had to be made in the foyer wall in order to run a new connection. Sparky had no idea how this had happened. Everything will be patched, but the walls are really beginning to look like a quilt.
That night I come home to see the extent of the respackled damage. I also note the cabinet light that was installed backwards, along with the motion detector that Sparky had hooked up to a wire I'd already shown him had been cut and needed to be replaced. I guess he'd forgotten - it had only been a week since we'd gone over it.
Later, Sparky calls to ask me if I'd seen a box of circuit breakers, since he thought he'd left them here and needs them for another job. No, they weren't here, I check.
Oy, nishtugadocht.
Boyz and a Hood
Tuesday, November 17. I'm home waiting for the kitchen guys to install the range hood that was finally delivered along with the rest of the wall cabinets in the kitchen. I'm also waiting for the contractor's guys to come and put up the roof-mounted blower for the range hood, along with the ductwork. I'm up early - even though I knew I'd be going in late - so Shaw can get Logan to school and out of the house by 7AM.
Around 9:30 the kitchen guys arrive and begin doing their thing. The range hood cabinet looks worth the wait. An hour later the others get here, and begin digging through the appliance boxes that have been sitting on the kitchen floor for over a month, trying to locate the external blower. All of these appliances had been ordered from the kitchen guy.
After several minutes and lots of mumbling, the contractor guys look glum. They confab with the kitchen guys - who happened to have been here on the day the appliances were delivered - and after trying to avoid speaking with me the truth comes out that the blower is the wrong model.
We all stare at each other. The kitchen guys call their boss, he says he'll call the appliance supplier and call right back. The contractor guys look lost, and finally decide on their own to start hooking up the washer and dryer in the basement until word comes back about the blower. I realize my staying home at this point is totally useless and leave.
About an hour after arriving at the office I call Kitchen Guy, who tells me he sent one of his men to the supplier and the correct blower will be at our house by two o'clock. I ask him if the contractor guys were told so they don't leave out of boredom, and he assures me that his guys are on top of things, However, since they were also the ones "on top" of approving the appliance delivery in the first place I'm not exactly feeling the love. But at least this problem is solved.
Around 3:30 Kitchen Guy calls me. It seems that our contractor is very unhappy that his guys had to sit around "all day waiting" for the right item, and he wants Kitchen Guy's crew to install it. Kitchen Guy tells me he usually charges about $1,500 for this type of installation, and thinks that the contractor never really wanted to install this item in the first place as it's far more involved than the contractor anticipated - making a large hole in the ceiling, running ductwork through the attic, cutting a hole in the roof, installing the blower and making sure it all lines up. He wants me to know there may be a problem here with the contractor. If there is, I reply, it isn't ours, as they need to work this out between them and get our kitchen finished after more than three months. I ask him if he has a crew available to install the blower, and he replies that he really isn't sure when they'll be able to schedule it due to the holiday next week and all his customers who want their kitchens done before Thanksgiving. Not to put too fine a point on it, but, duh.
That night I get home and Shaw shows me that one of the wall cabinets the kitchen guys actually did install is the wrong one.
The next morning I wait home again, so I can review the range hood situation with the contractor. He tells me that he spoke with Kitchen Guy whose boys will do it. When, we don't know. We also find out that the kitchen crew won't be back until the right wall cabinet comes in, and the correct cabinet fronts for the dining room wall. After Thanksgiving. Cancelling ours was obviously a good idea.
Around 9:30 the kitchen guys arrive and begin doing their thing. The range hood cabinet looks worth the wait. An hour later the others get here, and begin digging through the appliance boxes that have been sitting on the kitchen floor for over a month, trying to locate the external blower. All of these appliances had been ordered from the kitchen guy.
After several minutes and lots of mumbling, the contractor guys look glum. They confab with the kitchen guys - who happened to have been here on the day the appliances were delivered - and after trying to avoid speaking with me the truth comes out that the blower is the wrong model.
We all stare at each other. The kitchen guys call their boss, he says he'll call the appliance supplier and call right back. The contractor guys look lost, and finally decide on their own to start hooking up the washer and dryer in the basement until word comes back about the blower. I realize my staying home at this point is totally useless and leave.
About an hour after arriving at the office I call Kitchen Guy, who tells me he sent one of his men to the supplier and the correct blower will be at our house by two o'clock. I ask him if the contractor guys were told so they don't leave out of boredom, and he assures me that his guys are on top of things, However, since they were also the ones "on top" of approving the appliance delivery in the first place I'm not exactly feeling the love. But at least this problem is solved.
Around 3:30 Kitchen Guy calls me. It seems that our contractor is very unhappy that his guys had to sit around "all day waiting" for the right item, and he wants Kitchen Guy's crew to install it. Kitchen Guy tells me he usually charges about $1,500 for this type of installation, and thinks that the contractor never really wanted to install this item in the first place as it's far more involved than the contractor anticipated - making a large hole in the ceiling, running ductwork through the attic, cutting a hole in the roof, installing the blower and making sure it all lines up. He wants me to know there may be a problem here with the contractor. If there is, I reply, it isn't ours, as they need to work this out between them and get our kitchen finished after more than three months. I ask him if he has a crew available to install the blower, and he replies that he really isn't sure when they'll be able to schedule it due to the holiday next week and all his customers who want their kitchens done before Thanksgiving. Not to put too fine a point on it, but, duh.
That night I get home and Shaw shows me that one of the wall cabinets the kitchen guys actually did install is the wrong one.
The next morning I wait home again, so I can review the range hood situation with the contractor. He tells me that he spoke with Kitchen Guy whose boys will do it. When, we don't know. We also find out that the kitchen crew won't be back until the right wall cabinet comes in, and the correct cabinet fronts for the dining room wall. After Thanksgiving. Cancelling ours was obviously a good idea.
Friday, November 13, 2009
And Cecil B. DeMille Said, 'Let There Be Light'
Wednesday, November 11. Sparky is here, because I know I need to be home whenever he's doing any work. Every time I show him a fixture he reacts as if he's never seen one like it before. Now, I'll admit that some of the lights we're putting up aren't exactly off the shelf at Home Depot, but it isn't as if I'm manufacturing these things myself. Wall sconces, undercabinet and in-cabinet lighting, exterior lights - most of them have been ordered on-line from actual lighting companies, so the odds are pretty good they've been purchased by others before me, perhaps even by licensed electricians. And yet each one seems to be a first for Sparky. So it's been agreed by the contractor and me that I should be around as much as possible to show him what to do.
Anyway, today he hooks up the recessed lights in the dining room, installs the electric outlets, and even hooks up the lighting in and under the wall cabinets that are already in place. It's raining when he gets here so it's not looking good for him to install the outside fixtures... even he realizes that water and electricity aren't a good match. Around 1PM, though, the skies clear, I subtly yet hopefully mention that it's now dry outside, and he sends his assistant outside so about an hour later we have five of the outside wall lights put up. Finally, we'll be able to find our way outside at night. And, of course, they look great, but who among us is really surprised?.
More molding goes in, they start tiling the basement floor - which actually makes it look a lot less like a basement, I must admit, and was an excellent idea of Shaw's - and lots and lots and lots and lots of sanding takes place. Our almost 50-year-old walls, faced with sheetrock that's thinner than what they use now, haven't exactly aged all that well. I've become known around here as the "Blue Tape Terror", because every time I notice a flaw in a wall I stick a piece of blue painters tape next to it so they'll notice it needs to be spackled. Of course this makes the house appear to be suffering from a bad case of blue measles, but the point gets across.
Anyway, today he hooks up the recessed lights in the dining room, installs the electric outlets, and even hooks up the lighting in and under the wall cabinets that are already in place. It's raining when he gets here so it's not looking good for him to install the outside fixtures... even he realizes that water and electricity aren't a good match. Around 1PM, though, the skies clear, I subtly yet hopefully mention that it's now dry outside, and he sends his assistant outside so about an hour later we have five of the outside wall lights put up. Finally, we'll be able to find our way outside at night. And, of course, they look great, but who among us is really surprised?.
More molding goes in, they start tiling the basement floor - which actually makes it look a lot less like a basement, I must admit, and was an excellent idea of Shaw's - and lots and lots and lots and lots of sanding takes place. Our almost 50-year-old walls, faced with sheetrock that's thinner than what they use now, haven't exactly aged all that well. I've become known around here as the "Blue Tape Terror", because every time I notice a flaw in a wall I stick a piece of blue painters tape next to it so they'll notice it needs to be spackled. Of course this makes the house appear to be suffering from a bad case of blue measles, but the point gets across.
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