Phase I of this renovation has had its share of disasters, but my biggest complaint has always been how slowly the electrical work has gone. Every time I ask what’s holding us up, it’s something to do with circuits. I accused Joe and his dad of foot-dragging, and finally, because I want to move in sometime before our mortgage is paid off, I decided to micromanage.
So I pulled a 12-hour shift with them, hoping to speed things up. And I realized what they’ve been trying to tell me all along: It can’t be done. No offense to Ben Franklin, but electricity is god—awful, at least in our attic. It’s tedious, it’s slow-going, and really, it’s a one-man job, so I was mostly just there to hand tools to people and lend moral support.
What they’ve done in the attic is actually pretty amazing. They replaced a jumble of splices and frayed wires—some were actually tied in knots—with neat rows of wires run through holes in the rafters and stapled to beams. It’s a work of art.
Too bad I only realized this now that we’re on the home stretch. But at least I’ll be prepared for Phase II.