Life In the Slow Lane

The kitchen is gone. Our microwave and refrigerator are in the living room, along with lots of paper plates and cups, plasticware, and a large bag of dog food. We have two tray tables and bridge chairs set up in the upstairs study, where we enjoy all of our glamorous in-home microwave and take-out dining al messco.

Everybody I complain to tells me that we should just focus on how beautiful it will be when it's finished, and that all the inconvenience will be worth it. One of my favorite cousins gently reminds me that she and her family underwent a similar major renovation about 12 years ago, with three small children and no kitchen for a month, and that they all managed just fine.

There's nothing more annoying than rational perspective when all you want to do is be pissed.

As August coasted on toward Labor Day, prep work began on the kitchen. We met with Sparky the Electrician to lay out where all of the outlets and recessed lights will go. It's been decided that we want as many outlets along the countertops as possible. We also want the kitchen to be well-lit. Miles and miles and miles of electric wire are threaded throughout the walls and ceiling, and I'm thinking we'll be able to perform microsurgery in the kitchen by the time we're through.

The inspectors give us approval for the rough electric and plumbing. That means they come and look at the blue boxes and other stuff in the framing and say, "Those are some blue boxes" and "Boy, are those pipes." The contractor tells me that once the rough inspections are done we'll be able to just sail along. The next step is to have the framing itself inspected, which occurs a few days before Labor Day weekend. Simple, right?

Not so fast. The building inspector examines the house, likes the new dining room and kitchen, and then checks out the basement. What are those? he asks, pointing to the skeletons of two closets. Closets, replies the contractor. They're not on the plans, he advises, and then tells the contractor that we need revised floor plans before he'll approve the framing. And, without framing approval they can't install the insulation which will also need to be inspected. Without the insulation they can't put up the sheetrock. The contractor tries to explain that they're just closets that we added, nothing structural. Too bad, he's told. So it's back to the architect to get new floor plans.

And so, with the wait for the re-drawn basement plans causing a total stoppage in the interior, and the delays in getting the right stone veneer bringing the exterior work to a screeching halt, the first two and a half weeks in September are completely wasted. If only I could be.