Skip to main content

The Joys of Remodeling Never End. Ever.

  Remodeling. In no way does that word do justice to the actual process. It sounds like you’re just changing clothes. In reality, it’s like you’re putting on a whole new set of skin. OK, that was a disgusting analogy, but you get the point. They make it look so easy on HGTV and Extreme Home Makeover. I mean, everything is done in under an hour, not counting commercials. So how can it take weeks on end to just get some flooring down at my house?

  We had a little run in with water and gravity about a month ago at our house. As a result, we have had bare plywood flooring in parts of the house for that time. We’ve also had our favorite contractor, Rex, working on remodeling the affected bathroom for most of the time. He has done an excellent job. You can’t even tell that there was recently a lake in the bathroom. Except for holes in the ceiling on the floor below. But I’m just pretending we’ve started a skylight. And the fact we currently have no toilet. Not much glass-is-half-full wisdom that can be applied when nature calls and you have to trudge down two floors for a working bathroom.

  The change I’m most looking forward to is having the new flooring in the upstairs hallway. Partly for the excitement of something new, but mainly so they will put the hallway closet door back on. It presently resides in the office, leaning against the wall, like it’s on break. I keep looking behind it, hoping it suddenly becomes a doorway to Narnia. But, alas, no small, fictitious woodland creatures have come gallivanting out. Yet. And, as much as I enjoy the carpet and plywood look, it feels like part of the house is naked. Like some of the dresses female celebrities wear to the awards shows. The ones that look like they accidentally put on backwards because the slit runs down past their navel. The floor in our hallway had a wardrobe malfunction.

  The funny part is that because of this six foot square area of carpet, the insurance company is having us get all new flooring, not only in the upstairs hallway, but all the way down the stairs. I guess if you had a huge rip in your shirt, you would change it entirely. But usually you wouldn’t have someone else pay you to do it. The “damaged area” extends into my daughter’s room right at the door, so she has the two-tone flooring (carpet and plywood) right now as well.  It’s like a reverse welcome mat. Of course, she will be getting all new carpet in her room also. Being the tween that she is (a “tween” is anyone between the ages of 10 and 12 that has begun to show symptoms of being a teengaer), she has many ideas about how we should re-carpet her room. We had to nix the lime green shag carpet. OK, that was actually my idea, but it would go with the current bright orange walls. Anyway, she has been trolling the Sunday paper ads looking at carpeting. She has actually found some good ideas, so we were thinking of letting her do the job herself. Being a tween, though, the job would be done more quickly if we brought in a sloth.

  One of the side effects of remodeling is having various tools and fixtures sitting around the house waiting. For instance, the new toilet we are having put in has been in our dining room for the better part of a month. A commode in the room is not great conversation material:
Unsuspecting guest: How has your family been?
Me: Oh, excellent. And yours?
Guest: Very well, thank you. Are you still busy at work?
Me: Yes, plenty to do at work. How has your job been lately?
Guest: Splendid. We are...I’m sorry, but is that a toilet over there?
Me: Why, yes it is.
Guest: Oh.
This is usually followed by the guest excusing themselves for reasons involving their house catching on fire or a forgotten root canal. Still, I’m not complaining. How often do you have a chance to get a new toilet? Some people buy entirely new houses just to get one.

  I hope that the disarray in the house will end soon. We are beginning to see the results, but at times it feels like we live in a parts warehouse. I’ve never really wanted to live in a Home Depot. I do like the orange aprons, though.


Popular posts from this blog

Don't worry. I'm taking care of it for you.

I am a worrier. If there is something nearby that can be worried about, I will find it and worry all over it. Often, the worry relates to money in some fashion. Have you ever noticed that we never worry about having too much money? I’ve never heard anyone say, “I was thinking about my paycheck and I’m concerned there are too many large numbers on it.” That is a worry I wouldn’t mind having. Can someone mention that to my boss?

Really, though, I can worry about money with the best of them. I am always looking for new and innovative ways. For instance, when selling a house, did you know you can worry about how much a potential offer will be reduced after an inspection finds a few things wrong? Did you know you can worry about it before you’ve even had an offer on the house? Or when your house isn’t even on the market yet? Yes, it’s true. This is the kind of leading-edge worry research that I have done for you, my reader.

The biggest benefactor of this worry research has been my wife. She …

I Run, But I Never Get There

Over the last few years I have become a runner. Not like a Nike commercial runner. I don’t run everyday for miles and miles. And I am not in Adonis-like shape. In fact, this winter I did not run at all (apparently my exercise style is similar to a bear, hibernating in winter). But, as I near the end of my fourth decade, my main form of exercise has become a good run. 

In my younger days, I hated running. If we had to go for a run at practice, I got that heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t want to go for a long distance run. I didn’t want to do sprints. The only reason I liked to run is when it was attached to doing something fun, like playing ball or catching the ice cream truck. I definitely did not understand people who would voluntarily go out and run for no reason at all. Like they had somewhere they needed to get quickly. They never seem to get there, though. They just end up coming back to the same place they started. Of course I realize now that at that age, I had…

I Am Geek, Hear Me Roar

I am a geek. There, it’s out in the open now. I enjoy computer programming, Star Trek and jokes about the square root of Pi. I’ve known I was this way since elementary school. When I was 10, my parents bought me an old Texas Instruments TI-99. It used a TV for a monitor. It didn’t have a hard drive, so I couldn’t save anything. It was a beautiful thing that wouldn’t measure up to the most basic cell phone today. As a little mini-geek, I would find “programs” in magazines to type out that would do amazing stuff like make blinking blocks move across the screen. It made my heart beat with such excitement. Later on, in high school, I took a programming class in BASIC (yes, that is actually its name). I loved it. I could do cool stuff, like make the computer write words to the screen.

For some reason, I never really built on my nascent geek activities until I became an adult. But now, I am a web developer. I create websites and web applications for a living. By my own estimation, I’m a pr…