The Remodel, Day 4

Friday was an 11 hour day working on the house. When we came home, I collapsed on the couch, too tired to think in complete sentences. That's not a complaint. It's a good feeling to know that you have worked your hardest and put your all into the day. But the end result of putting your all into something is that there's not much left, well, not any left, when you're done. The end benefit (or one of them) is that there is something you have created or accomplished when you are done, as well. That's where the feeling gets good.

Yesterday the bookshelves came off, and the kitchen wall is now see-through. I was giddy with anticipation as the first bit of wall came down and the sunlight streamed through into the living room. I made all manner of stoopid noises and bounced around singing, then bolted down the hallway to see if Zorak wanted, "to see something sexy". Without looking up, he said, "What, did you stab yourself with the wrecking bar again?" Um, no (although that is finally starting to heal, thanks)... It's beautiful! (The kitchen/living room combo, not the gangrenous looking bruise on my thigh.)

The hall bath is now down to only studs and prepped for plumbing. (PLUMBING! YEEHAW!). We can see the first two attempts someone made at putting in a toilet, and of course the final plumbing where the toilet eventually landed. The subfloor was so rotted that it looked like coffee grounds and had to be scooped up with a dustpan. That is a lot of urine and bathwater, folks. However, I think the field trip down the hallway to see what happens when little boys splash water out of the tub may have had an impact: the boys took their baths last night and got nary a drop out of the tub. *hee hee*

The carpet and padding in the hallway are up, insulation is out of the main living/eating spaces, and the place is looking incredible! I did have a bit of an "Oh. Dear. Me." moment when I pulled one of the threshold strips up on the taupe living room/hallway carpet, only to discover it's not actually taupe. It's original color is platinum white. Yeah. That's just wrong!

Oh, and the wall where *something* went horribly wrong? BONANZA!! I realized, while giving it more of my evil eye, that - hey - right there, where it's all framed in and nasty and coming apart? That's going to be a BAY WINDOW when we're done! I don't have to care about it anymore, because somebody ELSE gets to rip that out for me and put in a window. All I have to do is stand behind him with a six-pack and some fresh brisket and bribe him to do it well. HOT DAMN! That's a great feeling!

We lunched at Barnhill's Fry-For-All, where the boys with their overalls and bantering and voracious appetites attracted every senior couple in the place to our table to talk and visit and oogle them. The older two boys just beamed. Smidge hammed it up (that's what you do when you're two and have decided not to glare at people and say "no" all the time - two is actually a very fun age). The grandparently types shared their stories of children, grandchildren and greatgrandchildren, and it was just lovely. When we left, the boys got to the door, turned to say good-bye and the entire section we'd been sitting in waved and shouted back. (In a good way, not in a "wow, they're finally leaving" way.)

John and Smidge crashed for a long summer afternoon nap in the car, which left James free to roam and discover. Suddenly I heard a rickety, metal-on-rock clanging sound and from outside came this wee voice shouting, "WOOOOHOOOOOO!" I poked my head out the window, and there was James, legs jutting out to the sides, one arm flailing in the air, riding his Little Red Wagon DOWN THE HILL. At this point, my mother tried to channel through me and force me to go stop him before he gets hurt. Thankfully, I sent her back and kept my mouth shut. Sure, he may hurt himself. Sure, that scared the pants off me. But that little boy, laughing and whooping it up, dragging his wagon from hill to hill to find just the right one for riding down, was a HUGE part of why we bought this place. My little man, who can be so very serious about everything, became a Little Boy in all it's danger-infused, creative glory. So I did what any mother would do when faced with this scene: I grabbed Zorak and we sat on the porch, side by side, watching him and basking in the warmth of knowing we've bought the right place. They can grow up here. They can explore here. There are adventures waiting to happen, and the room to go find them. This place is so very perfect for us.

And today looks like another busy day, so I'd better go round everyone up and head out there. Have a great Saturday!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy