Monthly Archives: October 2008

sigh. insulation again.

In the morning, I raked leaves (with the size of the sweet gum tree out front, this may be my weekend pastime for the rest of the year) while the guys got the furnace going. After lunch, we all ascended into pink, fluffy hell.

For some reason I thought putting insulation in would be much easier than taking it out. This is so not true. The rolls are just as itchy and irritating as the blown-in stuff, and you still have to wriggle around on your belly to get it in place. Plus, there are wires in the way. Joe’s dad did most of the hard labor, even though he swore off attic work. I barely did a thing and I’m sore, so I imagine he must feel like total crap.

We finished almost half the attic, although we still need to figure out how to get under the eaves. I’ll be ecstatic when we finally start screwing floorboards down. We’ll have some storage space, and I will have no reason to come near this pink crap ever again.

we do jack

This will be a short entry since we didn’t technically work today. But since yesterday, here’s our progress:

  • Roy finished tiling the tub surround and floor, including the trim. It looks amazing.
  • We ordered the matching granite threshold.
  • We ordered the shower doors (and confirmed that the correct side kit for the medicine chest is coming as well).
  • Today, we ordered our interior wood doors. That’s a relief, but delivery takes four weeks, which is a drag.
  • We picked a new gray for the bathroom.
  • We got the parts we needed to get the furnace running again.

Then we carved pumpkins the rest of the day. When we can decorate at our own place, forget about it.

a near-bath experience

So this is our tub, tiled. How beautiful is that? I rushed over after work to see it and was so excited/nervous I set my car alarm off by accident. I could stare at it forever (and did, in fact, spend a good chunk of time staring at it tonight). Some of the photos make the marble look beige (shudder), but it’s light gray.

The last tile in the recessed shelf is missing because Roy wanted us to pick it out, since it’s smack in the middle of the shower. I figure it will be covered with shampoo bottles most of the time, but I appreciate the gesture. And we went with just one white granite corner shelf. Hopefully the three of us can keep our shampoo bottles to a minimum.

The other good news is that the light fixture came and it wasn’t broken. And I love it. I got it for an absolute steal from an eBay shop so I figured something would be wrong with it but nope. It was even in the original packaging. Now I need to order the matching toilet paper holder.

I can’t believe it’s finally all coming together. I am a perpetual state of nervous excitement. This will be our last toilet-less weekend. Hooray!

Saturday, part II: the agony

I present my first photo essay: How we destroyed the ceiling in the master bedroom for the second time.

The background: We were trying to insulate the attic, but first we had to fix the wood bridges between the beams that stuck up too far. We’d have to hack them off or replace them so the plywood could lie flat. Replacing them seemed to be the easier option, so Joe pried up the ones that were giving us trouble:

Then we cut new pieces to replace them:

And went up to the attic and hammered/screwed them in place:

But what none of us considered is that this is work that should be done before you paint your master bedroom ceiling for the second time. Because while we were doing this:

We were also doing this:

The drywall was sagging and all our hammering and screwing cracked the ceiling and pushed nailheads through. So now we have to re-screw it in place, and spackle, sand, and paint for the third time. I almost cried watching.

We should have called it a day after picking the grout.

Saturday, part I: the ecstasy

I hadn’t been by the house all week, so I only heard about the progress secondhand from Joe and his dad. And that is a horrible way to hear anything, unless you only want to know what’s wrong with it. As far as I’m concerned, nothing is wrong. For starters, the medicine cabinet is gorgeous. Joe is concerned that we got the wrong side kit and beveled glass. I pointed out that he wanted beveled glass—I’m the one who didn’t want it, and I don’t even care.

In our bedroom, Joe’s dad put on the first coat of paint and it is amazing. I really, really love the green we picked. And here is our fabulous, long-awaited hot water heater. The label looks superhero-ish. I guess it helps that it’s called The Defender.

Finally, the bathroom. We have walls. What can I say to make you understand the indescribable beauty of that? We have walls in the bathroom. Joe also talked Roy into a recessed soap dish, which I thought was impossible. I love this man. Both those men. I haven’t been this excited since we bought the place. I may need tranquilizers to see it actually finished.

We were waiting for Joe’s dad to join us, so pretty much all we did all morning was buy grout for the tiles. They have this entire sheet of colors that peel off and have a sticky back, so you can put them right up against your tile, which is pretty neat, but in the end we went with standard white. I was intrigued to learn that glittery metallic grout exists, though. I can only imagine whoever buys it also has a popcorn ceiling.

So much progress. My faith is restored. This bathroom is going to look damn good.

a birthday wish

I give my husband a lot of crap, here on my blog and in real life. And he is wonderful enough to stay married to me anyway. Joe, no matter how much I disagee with your belief that wood should never be painted, that living room floors should be tiled, and that antiques and contemporary furnishings do not mix (and I do strongly disagree with all of that), I love you and wouldn’t want it any other way.

And yes, we’re buying you the power saw. Happy birthday hon!

second thoughts

Horror. Terror. Pandemonium.

I woke up this morning with a severe case of regret, convinced that the light fixture we—okay, I—picked was all wrong. Joe’s dad was going to the house today to mount the electrical box for it, and Roy was coming tomorrow, so this caused me sheer panic.

But, I discovered, there is nothing like sheer panic for inspiration. After a frantic online search, I stumbled across and fell in love with the Norwell brand. After pasting the ten or so different fixtures I liked into an e-mail, I dialed Joe.

“Um, I don’t want you to be mad at me. But.” Pause. “Iwanttopickanewlightfixture.”

Unaffected by my verbal gymnastics, he refused. “It’s too late,” he said. I commenced cajoling, begging, pouting. And did I mention today is his birthday? Yes, I am that awful. But he must be more burnt out than me, because he gave in and picked one from the list I e-mailed him. To my surprise, this was his choice:
Which, as you can tell, is pretty darn close to what we picked yesterday. Which he hated. Sigh. Anyway, I ordered it so it’s a done deal. And I am done with bathroom fixtures in this house, which is really too bad, because I discovered too late this awesome site, which lets you preview the fixtures in actual rooms. I am now wasting too much time planning my dream powder room. Because if this experience taught me anything, it’s that you can never plan too much.

stone-walled

I’ve lost count how many trips we’ve taken to Expo, but it’s been one too many. The tile we were promised would be “hand-picked and delivered by Wednesday” still wasn’t there Saturday morning. It took me pitching a major fit, followed by Joe calling back, asking for the manager, and pitching a major fit that made my fit seem tame by comparison before we got results.

We wouldn’t have been so impatient but we got official word that Roy would be coming on Tuesday. This Tuesday. Hallelujah. And the man needs tile. The man also needs a light fixture, so we browsed before heading to the tile department. I pointed this one out to Joe. I’d been considering it all along, and now we were both so worn down, we were open to anything. He said okay, fine, but I could tell he didn’t mean it.

When we got home, we went through the tile immediately. It was much better. Also, to  remedy the appalling lack of photos on this blog lately, I handed my camera over to Belle, who shows a lot of promise at photography. Enjoy:




close calls

I was on pins and needles all week waiting for our hardwood to be delivered. Joe’s dad signed for it Wednesday afternoon. It was late, but every box was in pristine condition. We were even luckier than I thought, because when I went to return a roll of foam to the flooring store we almost ordered from (had the sample box they sold us not been so crappy), I was stunned to learn that they had gone out of business.

The rest of the day we spent on the Great Bathroom Light Fixture Search. We hit up Light World, which has a great selection. Even so, it was as torturous as ever, and we left empty-handed. The only progress we made was finding the chandelier for Izabelle’s room. I actually found it earlier online and she liked the picture, but now we’ve seen it in person.

It’s called the Rosavita, and it’s by—get this—Mary Kate and Ashley for Elk Lighting. But it isn’t bad. Even Joe agreed—I think that’s what he meant when he said, “Well, it isn’t as gaudy as what I thought you’d pick.” (He was talking to me, not Belle.) And it it’s much more reasonable than my stepdaughter’s first choice, which is a purple Schonbek crystal pendant with a $650 price tag.

At least she’s got good taste. Must come from her mom.

lighting the way

Our search for a vanity light has been upgraded to code red status. For once, Joe and I actually agree on a light—several of them, in fact. This was the first one:

But, and here is something completely new, no one will sell it to us. Apparently, you can only buy it as a set with a vanity, not separately. I have pestered salespeople and basically tried every sneaky way I can think of, short of stealing a floor model, to get around that requirement, to no avail. I even contacted the manufacturer directly, but I guess the secret to the stalwart Canadian economy is to not sell people things. Huh.

Anyway, this light from Restoration Hardware was our second choice until we went to see it today. It’s mounted so close to the wall, we’re afraid our surface-hung medicine cabinet (curse you, 2-by-3 construction), will block it entirely. We also looked at one at Pottery Barn, same deal (and it was hideous). So now we are stuck. Other styles of lights are either too big in scale for the space, or too small for the medicine cabinet.

I’m back to figuring out how to trick this lousy Canadian manufacturer into selling me their product. Or if anyone has any other ideas or suggestions, I’d love to hear them.