I'm writing for the first time from my new office, conveniently located within my new house.

Remember that part where I wrote about the house needing no immediate work? Well, that turned out to be a bit optimistic. I've spent the last ten days working on it, six with the assistance of a bona fide handyman (to mess with the electricity and the drywall, among other more complicated things), two with the assistance of my aunt and uncle, one with the assistance of my cousin, and almost every single day with the indispensible help of my mom. The fugly wallpaper in the bathroom was the first priority -- out it went, Day One. On the theory that painting is easier before you get too settled in, I now have a cool blue bedroom and a neutral tan office, both with white trim. (The entire house was done in flat off-white with a green tinge to it -- trim included. I'll be working my way through the rest of it as time allows.) My old cranky windows are newly caulked and appropriate thanks have been offered for the inside storm windows, without which you could chip me out of my ice block come spring. The grody fluorescent bathroom lights have been replaced with nice new incandescent fixtures, and incredibly enough, the handyman found an almost exact match for the tile (the tile originally had to be cut out to accommodate the old lights when they were put in). The equally annoying fluorescent light above the kitchen sink has been replaced. My through-the-wall mail slot, generator of icy cold breezes even on not-so-windy days, has been drywalled over and a shiny new mailbox installed. I have three-prong outlets in the office and part of the living room now (we'll work on the rest over time), and an expensive GCFI outlet in the bathroom. Nails have been pulled, holes have been caulked, paint has been touched up. New curtains and rods grace the living room. Hardwood floors in the bedroom and office have been exposed, cleaned, and waxed. The hardwired dial phone in the kitchen and its ringer, conveniently located 10 feet away in the hallway and at its lowest volume about the decibel level of a fire alarm, have been removed. The kitchen cabinets and their gorgeous solid copper pulls have been scrubbed and the shelves and drawers have been newly lined. The front door has a new, modern doorknob and lock. A hundred other little things have been adjusted as well.

There were only two scary moments. First, the sellers had turned off the water heater while the house was unoccupied, unbeknownst to me until I went to take a nice, long, hot shower at the end of Day One. A post-midnight jaunt to the basement in my bathrobe to read the itty-bitty print on the water heater to figure out how to relight it wasn't appealing, so I left it until morning, when I discovered that I had no matches anyway. I did what all smart people should do, which is call Uncle Ken, who after about a half-hour of trying, finally got it lit. (No industrial design awards for the person who put the pilot light a good six inches back from the little hole through which you're supposed to light this model.) I was having visions of buying a new water heater on Day Two.

Second, on Day Three we decided to try the dishwasher. About 20 minutes into its cycle, someone noticed that the basement floor was wet. I rushed downstairs and saw water pouring through the floorboards from above. It ends up that there is a leak in the dishwasher itself somewhere, not just a loose connection. So now it has to go, after discovering that the avocado panels would indeed pull off and reveal some nice stainless steel underneath. I'm taking my time deciding if I want to replace it with another dishwasher (it's only 17.5 inches wide, doesn't hold much, and a replacement would be at least $400 plus installation) or bring up the cabinets that were originally there, which now live in the basement, and dooming myself to washing dishes by hand forever, one of my most detested chores.

This has been my life for the past ten days.
- posted by Lori @ 12:34:00 AM | permanent link | |