the insurmountably insignificant

I know I've already said it, but this week has cemented my belief that the DIY impulse is born out of frustration with contractors. We hired the drywall guy on Monday and he began the two-day job on Tuesday. Today he finished up, leaving us to do the final sanding. The quality of the work is far from perfect and he made a huge mess of the brand new tile, but I verified that it'll all clean off and paid him, just so I wouldn't be stuck waiting around for him to finish the work.

The hall bathroom - only shower for the four of us living here - now has walls, and those walls are primered. Tomorrow we paint, and then hopefully I can get the plumber to come install the toilet and sink Monday.

In addition to painting, tomorrow's work schedule includes demoing the 6'x7' area off the kitchen that's been designated the laundry-room-to-be and patching the wall outside the hall bathroom which is still covered in OSB and plastic with legitimate looking siding material.

There's a problem, though, in getting so close with the bathroom. It's a distraction. I need to be thinking about self-leveling concrete and instead I'm thinking about crown moulding. It's hard to move on to the next task because the bathroom is finally at a stage where I can envision how it'll look finished. I want to lay slate tiles down on the seat of the window and trim the door, as much to cover up the places where the paint and drywall are flawed as to indulge any kind of Martha Stewart impulse.

Fortunately, I can't get too dangerously off track because two big tasks are now underway: the roof and the HVAC. I meet with the bank next week to confirm that I have financing for both of these, which should be the last mind-boggling expenses that'll be necessary for a while. They'll also allow us to survive the winter. Even though I'm paying both of these contractors sums in the quintuple-digits, both jobs involve a significant amount of work on my end, both in coordination and in several things that need to go on in the attic.

The attic currently has loose insulation, with a modest R-7 rating. To qualify for the HVAC loan, I have to bring it up to R-38. I could just pile insulation on top of what's there, but there are some ceilings we don't want to drywall, and so it would be preferable to have something in the attic that won't create so much dust. Therefore, the very ambitious plan is to scoop out all the existing insulation while the roof's off. 1,400 square feet or so. I'm trying to look at it as an opportunity to get to know the one part of the house I haven't personally entered yet (I'm scared of heights and especially of ladders), but I think the more realistic view is that it's an opportunity to get insulation all over my yard while simultaneously not actually getting the attic clean.

It's daunting, especially because financing the very crucial heating system depends on it and because this all probably has to happen by the beginning of December. I have the beginning of next week off, though and, although I cringe at the thought of hiring anyone else, I know where the day laborers hang out.

a good surprise?

The bathroom is probably as gutted as it's going to get without the aid of a plumber and an electrician. A plumber because we can't figure out how to disconnect the pipes from the bathtub, and an electrician because the medicine cabinet has about forty wires running to it with no apparent way to disconnect them that wouldn't leave them exposed. (Exposed wires in an increasingly soggy room just doesn't sound awesome to me.)



The first thing I did this morning was to tear down the cardboard that was behind the cement board that held the tiles that were hidden behind the cultured marble in the shower. (Aside: This house is at least 50% cardboard. If it ever catches fire, it's gonna go up in seconds.) Behind the cardboard? Beadboard. All over the bathroom. It's the horizontal kind, but if you need proof that can look as dope or doper than the vertical kind, check out these pictures of a renovation in Connecticut. I find this sort of hilarious, because the ceiling of the entryway is covered in those cheap faux beadboard panels you can get at Home Depot. If the walls are beadboard, you'd think the ceilings would be as well. I guess if I go and buy a ladder, I can find out. I'm hoping for the absolute best sort of irony: beadboard over plaster over beadboard. But anyway, the bathroom.



The beadboard's been patched in numerous places where doors and windows used to be, and carelessly broken away in places behind the shower to make room for the pipes and to allow a recess for a nasty old shower shelf. Below a wainscotting rail, it had vinyl-veneered cardboard glued to it, but what's above the rail is just covered with drywall. I'm thinking the stuff below the rail is probably not worth trying to save, but the stuff above, given a good paint job, could be nice.

I found the same beadboard behind the gaping hole in the master bedroom and I'm curious now whether the beadboard walls are all throughout the house. If so, I'm really tempted to blow in some insulation between that and the siding and paint them instead of drywalling everything.