Wednesday, April 21, 2004
I was one of the first in line this morning at the city's Bureau of Development Services, to get approval of the draft easement. First and lasting impression: They make the Circumlocution Office look like a high-efficiency operation.
Tuesday, April 20, 2004
It's a good thing I was practically born with a paint scraper in my hand, because the Pirate's house -- which I now call Construction HQ -- is tapping all my home-improvement skills. People ask what I did on the weekends, and I have to rack my brain, because these days it's just a seemingly uninterrupted stream of painting, cleaning, staining, varnishing, mowing the lawns, talking with contractors, and so on. Not that I'm complaining: I'm meeting a ton of interesting people and enjoying the physical and karmic turnabout of Construction HQ. For the latter, my neighbors have offered a smudging.
The good news is that with new, painted trim in place of the yucky baseboard heaters I have now completed two rooms so I can start moving things over. I met with my real estate agent Friday, and we're on a tight schedule getting the other house to market.
More good news: Our old family friend, Roy, son of my mom's college buddy, stops by the office last week. I ask what he's doing for work these days, and it turns out he subcontracts for the builder I interviewed a couple weeks ago. I liked that builder right off, because he reminded me of my brother and I felt at ease with him immediately.
Last week I spent two hours at George Morlan picking out fixtures and more time this morning deliberating over marmoleum and formica for the new kitchen. I was a little bummed that the wacky "newspaper" pattern of formica isn't on offer anymore, because it's fun choosing all these bold finishes that I know I won't have to live with forever. I think that's partly why I didn't second-guess the Grok God when he picked deep-sea "ethereal" blue for the living room ceiling and everywhere in the dining room. Of course, I try not to second-guess the Grok God on anything.
The kitchen was demo-ed to the studs last week, and boy does it look a lot better than the grossness that was there before. Even that weird old guy smell is lifting. One cool artificact that surfaced: a hammer with the initials M.F.B. carefully carved into it. Mabel's hammer! She lives on in my toolbox.
The good news is that with new, painted trim in place of the yucky baseboard heaters I have now completed two rooms so I can start moving things over. I met with my real estate agent Friday, and we're on a tight schedule getting the other house to market.
More good news: Our old family friend, Roy, son of my mom's college buddy, stops by the office last week. I ask what he's doing for work these days, and it turns out he subcontracts for the builder I interviewed a couple weeks ago. I liked that builder right off, because he reminded me of my brother and I felt at ease with him immediately.
Last week I spent two hours at George Morlan picking out fixtures and more time this morning deliberating over marmoleum and formica for the new kitchen. I was a little bummed that the wacky "newspaper" pattern of formica isn't on offer anymore, because it's fun choosing all these bold finishes that I know I won't have to live with forever. I think that's partly why I didn't second-guess the Grok God when he picked deep-sea "ethereal" blue for the living room ceiling and everywhere in the dining room. Of course, I try not to second-guess the Grok God on anything.
The kitchen was demo-ed to the studs last week, and boy does it look a lot better than the grossness that was there before. Even that weird old guy smell is lifting. One cool artificact that surfaced: a hammer with the initials M.F.B. carefully carved into it. Mabel's hammer! She lives on in my toolbox.
Monday, April 12, 2004
Now I look forward to the start of the workweek because it signals an end to hard-core weekend laboring on Maggie's Farm. This time it was a bunch of landscape work at the "old" house, mowing the lawns ('natch), painting at the new place, and tucking away all the garage sale bounty that we came across on an innocent trip to the neighborhood coffee shop.
The patch job where the dining room ceiling caved in looks awesome. Why is it the easy things are turning out hard, and what I think will be hard is a piece o' cake? So, for instance, I've made about a zillion phone calls trying to get the surveyor and the lawyer — and their software programs — to connect, but the ceiling patch guy? He just came in, slapped up the Structurolite, and went on his way.
Another groovy item from one of the garage sales was a solid picnic table that I've put under the carport. It's where I imagine some alfresco meals and meetings as well as a place for the crews to sit and relax. These days there always seems to be a crew somewhere, doing something.
This week, the fab CDR crew is set to demo the kitchen and bath, which means I'm going fixture shopping.
The patch job where the dining room ceiling caved in looks awesome. Why is it the easy things are turning out hard, and what I think will be hard is a piece o' cake? So, for instance, I've made about a zillion phone calls trying to get the surveyor and the lawyer — and their software programs — to connect, but the ceiling patch guy? He just came in, slapped up the Structurolite, and went on his way.
Another groovy item from one of the garage sales was a solid picnic table that I've put under the carport. It's where I imagine some alfresco meals and meetings as well as a place for the crews to sit and relax. These days there always seems to be a crew somewhere, doing something.
This week, the fab CDR crew is set to demo the kitchen and bath, which means I'm going fixture shopping.
Monday, April 05, 2004
I spoke a little too soon in my last post about smiling every time I leave the architects' office, because Friday's meeting with the architect (#1 in my Tenpod troika, I suppose) left me a little dispirited. We put together our first pro forma on the project, and we kept ending up with a price for Mabel that's significantly more than I thought it would be. Even #1 Tenpodder was a bit miffed.
After thinking these deals would somehow earn me a heavily discounted, or even free (hahaha), house, and that I could eventually stop working for the man, I now realize I'll probably end up with a mortgage similar to what I was carrying before the refi.
It certainly gives me pause, and a chance to wonder whether it's worth it. Conversely, I've consoled myself a bit by saying I get my dream house for half the price. Or perhaps there's another angle I need to consider that'll serve up more cheer.
I could stay in one of the crumbling bungalows, to be sure, but I like making things happen, and building satisfies that urge. Construction is like bookbinding writ large; there's body (materials), there's soul (design), and the challenge is making them fit together seamlessly.
I put my fence and the Pirate's shed on craigslist and, poof, there they went. Now I can actually walk onto my back deck and check out the half acre, like I'm the mayor.
After thinking these deals would somehow earn me a heavily discounted, or even free (hahaha), house, and that I could eventually stop working for the man, I now realize I'll probably end up with a mortgage similar to what I was carrying before the refi.
It certainly gives me pause, and a chance to wonder whether it's worth it. Conversely, I've consoled myself a bit by saying I get my dream house for half the price. Or perhaps there's another angle I need to consider that'll serve up more cheer.
I could stay in one of the crumbling bungalows, to be sure, but I like making things happen, and building satisfies that urge. Construction is like bookbinding writ large; there's body (materials), there's soul (design), and the challenge is making them fit together seamlessly.
I put my fence and the Pirate's shed on craigslist and, poof, there they went. Now I can actually walk onto my back deck and check out the half acre, like I'm the mayor.
