This Effing House

The kindness of strangers

2011-03-18T18:31:00.000-07:00

I'm really not amazed by the generosity of people. In the news biz, despite all the bad news, we encounter lots of good people, doing good deeds, without much of a reward.

So it's nice that a good deed has helped me complete the laundry room. I asked a colleague where I could get a butcher block countertop from IKEA cut into two pieces. He suggested a friend at his church who is a cabinet maker.

He took the pieces to his friend and returned them, in beautiful condition.

A week later, I'm adding these pieces and helping put finishing touches on my room. My cost? A batch of cookies.

Thanks.

How to paint a ... oh look! A puppy!

2010-11-25T07:16:00.000-08:00

In the midst of about half a dozen home improvement endeavors, another aftermath of layoffs at work, two night classes and more responsibilities with my professional group, I got a puppy.

Never had one before. I am a cat person, who was living quietly with two overweight and lethargic felines. But a few months ago, I saw this litter of puppies that were rescued by a colleague.

One stood out, because she looked like a miniature St. Bernard. When another colleague decided she couldn't take the dog, I volunteered instead. This dog had to be a part of my life.

She's a lot of work. And her presence has halted almost all the work on my house. I was adding insulation to exterior walls in my laundry room. I had to hire the rest of the work out -- but it was drywalling and adding trim, work best left to a professional anyway.

I had a dog door added as well, so Da Puppee can find shelter in colder weather during the day.

But that's pretty much halted the rest of my projects -- exterior painting, more insulation and the bathroom.

My life has become a bit more complicated, I'm losing sleep, I'm not concentrating at work and Da Katz aren't exactly crazy about this new companion. Yet I'm in love.

Slowly, I'm working away at outstanding DIY -- my goal in 2011 is to get the 2010 projects done.

Home gawking -- Florida

2010-10-11T18:56:00.000-07:00

Newest batch o' Flickr photos shows some photos of homes taken in St. Augustine and the Old Northeast neighborhood of St. Petersburg. Beautiful, beautiful structure of the homes -- Victorian and Craftsmen style.

Google search: "window locks with uneven windows"

2010-09-27T21:05:00.000-07:00

Have you ever just gone bats over how to get the details right on a project? For three days, I have been studying window locks, in search of some eternal answer to the question: How do you put them on right?

Flashback: Redoing laundry room; disassembling single hung windows, stripping them of old paint, dislodging upper panes so air won't leak out, putting them back in.

Now that they don't have decades of paint sealing them, I'm in need of window locks.

I go buy window locks. Let's try this type. Hmm, not many instructions. Let's dry-fit it.

Nope, won't work. The ledge of the upper pane won't quite meet with the ledge of the lower pane, giving an uneven surface for the lock installation.

Buy different window locks, one that might provide a little "give" for an uneven surface. I screwed two in, but one only locks halfway and other pulled out a screw when locking. As my father would say, "pretty Polack." I would say, McGyver gone wrong.

I then found myself at a home improvement show, eyeballing the perfect locks on some vinyl windows. Salesman swiftly is aside me like a vampire in Louisiana. Damn, perfect factory window locks. To appease him, I stuff a brochure into the complimentary bag (provided by a law firm that is growing leaps and bounds over foreclosures).

Now, the Goggle search, as titled above

First up, mrs. fix-it, or something like that:

1. Remove the broken lock (making sure that your window is closed tightly so that you get a good fit).

2. Take your replacement lock and put it on the window sash directly in the center, with half of the lock resting on the outer sash and half on the inner sash.

3. Using a sharp pencil, trace the lock and mark the holes where the screws should be.

4. Remove the lock and drill holes for the screws. Put the lock back on the window frame and tighten the screws.

Did all that, Missy. they meet unevenly. Let's modify the search...adding the word "sash."

OK, this from a Virginia energy website:

Properly installed window locks should pull the sashes together tightly and should hold them firmly against the window frame. Re- placement locks are available in most hardware stores.

no shit.

Now, aurora88, on the historichomeworks blog discussion board, certainly was obsessing about this very thing. In 2007, he sought help, and got a bit of it -- although he rejected some of it because he wanted something "refined."

Me, too. aurora88, me too.

Jade is helping, very helpfully, but here comes Johnleeke, (Site Administrator) who's now posted some 1886 patent on a window sash tightener. Surely available at your nearest Amish Home Depot.

Nobody else is buying your 19th century bags of goods, mister johnleeke.

eHow don't know how you want to do that when you can buy nice windows from someone.

Finally landed on a book excerpt from Terry Meany, who wrote a book called "Working Windows." Seems to think like the masses. I will either scout down the book or find the author.

And tomorrow morning, I will peek over again to those windows and see I can't find my own way.

Suggestions welcome!

DIY DNA

2010-09-02T18:23:00.000-07:00

My father died when I was 10 years old. Today is the anniversary of his death.

I don't dwell upon this much -- most years I don't even think about it until a couple of days later. I have few fond memories; few memories, actually. His death sent our family into a financial hole that he could have prevented with better insurance. He was older, had heart trouble, and, as they say, was pretty emotional unavailable - a product of his day.

When he died, he had just finished rehabbing the attic of our home. We bought it two years before, and he tackled the reno with gusto. I remember him using hand saws. Stuffing insulation into attic eaves. Putting up drywall.

Dad updated a half bath, created a back room and put in a drop ceiling. I helped a lot as a nine-year-old would: grabbing tools for him, running up and down the stairs and watching him as he measured and planned.

Flash forward. Here I am, stuffing insulation, using hand saws, and measuring (although probably not as successfully). Not a bad legacy.

And, just a little bit, I envy the friends whose fathers are around to help them with a renovation

Get this party started?

2010-07-31T18:00:00.000-07:00

I'm hosting a post-nuptial party for some good friends next week. So how will I explain my unfinished projects? Or should I?

I mean, people know me. They know I'm constantly working on my house.

Right now, the walls of my laundry room are partially exposed as I tear down siding for my exterior painting project (currently on hold until summer ends its simmering). And there's the slightly disassembed post in the bathroom.

Then there's the repairs unrepaired: the siding still unpainted, the eave that's rotting away along the back porch. The low spots in the yard. I notice all these things, everyday. Will anyone notice them during an evening's festivities?

How do you entertain while remodeling?

Tarred and weathered

2010-07-05T17:44:00.000-07:00

After painting of a third side of my house, I wanted to take a breather until I did the finishing touches. Time to inhale.

The mid-summer weather in the South makes it forgivable to neglect work outside. When the humidity is 90 percent and it's about 95 degrees, you huddle inside as if a Nor'easter was roaring through.

But last weekend, it was in the 80s during the day, and even a bit chilly at night. Glorious. I split the difference outdoors as a result. I spent one lazy afternoon in the hammock, catching up on reading that wasn't a requirement of my night classes. Then, this morning, I shimmied up a ladder and installed a drip edge near the roofline.

Why didn't I do this before? The L-shaped channel is designed to direct water from the roof to a gutter, but, in my case, it's a perfect solution to keep my rafters in good shape and even protect a few vulnerable spots. It also improves the look of an older roofline.

It was easy to put up. The thin aluminum makes the drip edge flexible -- you tuck it in between the bottom shingle and the roof. Adhere it with roofing cement (with a caulk gun) by running a bead over the channel and pressing the shingles to the channel. Be careful pulling up the shingles -- if they're older they'll crack a bit (I used extra roofing cement to repair those tiny cracks).

This break in the weather was just a break. It'll be 100 degrees here by Wednesday. Time to head back inside.

TA-DA! Three sides re-painted.

2010-06-14T22:38:00.000-07:00

The next side of the house is (technically) finished. Just some touch-ups and such.

The siding transplant was a success -- in that I didn't screw much up. Now, a break for a long hot summer. Might start repairing the gaping holes I made in interior walls in the laundry room.

Not so level-headed

2010-05-26T17:25:00.000-07:00

Been celebrating my 50th birthday over the last couple of weeks -- I call it Betseyfest -- so I haven't been as diligent about projects.

My brother and sister visited prior to my birthday. Part of their gift was to help me with one little project -- installing new closet doors.

Sliding doors, from Lowe's, check.

Tools, check.

Level framed opening? Not so check.

My brother was determined to make it work. So out came the shims. A few (six, seven, who's counting?) shims later, we leveled the top frame. He fudged the bottom by cutting it at a small angle, and I provided the know-how to plug the bottom of the hollow doors (thank you, DIY Network!).

I just need to put a piece of wood to cover the framing, but it looks pretty good.

Operation Siding Transplant: Update

2010-05-07T19:00:00.000-07:00

I began Operation Siding Transplant last week. So far, so good. So good, that in fact, I decided to add Operation Insulation, MacGyver style.

A couple of nights ago, I started peeling away some damaged siding, and I dutifully began fitting the donor siding in the empty space. Thankfully, they fit, but I didn't nail them in just yet.

I was thinking, Hey, while I've got the outside cavity open, why don't I look at the options of adding insulation? A couple of minutes on the Internets, and I had a plan.

The next morning I called the insulation company I used to blanket my attic. The salesman said they didn't do retrofit work, but explained how to get it done.

First, I peeled away a few more boards of siding to reveal some of the framing toward the top and the bottom.

Next, I unfurled the insulation (kraft paper backed, 23 inches wide, and 3 1/2 in depth) and began cutting to size. I got the right size by fishing my measuring tape into the cavity. After cutting the insulation to match the cavity, I slowly stuffed it in. On the full lengths, I stuffed them in increments, so I didn't have too long of a piece to navigate through the hole.

I'm about finished -- still have to stuff the space above the windows and figure out how to get into spaces that now are obstructed by pipes (such as a kitchen vent), but I'm pretty confident I can finish this up, button up the holes with the donor siding, then prime and paint. And voila, I will have three sides of my house painted.

Some tips:

-- I'm in the South, but the insulation folks recommended that I buy insulation with a vapor barrier, and face that toward the interior walls.

-- I hope the wood studs don't sweat and cause condensation within the cavity.

-- Don't work on insulation when it's 90 degrees out. Oy.

-- Take a break, so you don't make mistakes out of sheer exhaustion.

Carpenter bees!

2010-04-04T10:11:00.000-07:00

Spring is in full force here. Azaleas blooming, hosta shoots peeking, and bees buzzing. Unfortunately, the bees are of the carpenter kind.

I learned this after two random observations: a bee staying put near my hydrangeas, even though they weren't blooming yet. And little piles of sawdust under my railing.

I was enchanted by watching the bee just hover near the bush, but then I began to suspect it was protecting something -- especially when other bees would come near. It's a hive, I thought, built under the siding that's curled away from the building, damaged from all the Southern sun.

A consultation later at work, followed by some Internet research, revealed the world of carpenter bees. They burrow into exposed wood, use the sawdust for nests, and thrive inside a round hole that they create.

I found a perfectly round hole, but I also suspect they just had an open door -- or siding -- policy. I'm sanding and prepping the siding, exposing patches of bare wood. And the railings? I don't know how they did it, but they're hollowing out the bottom of the rails.

I reluctantly bought some insecticide (I believe we use way too many toxic chemicals in this world) and shot it through any opening I can find. The bees should be gone in two days. Or onto another part of my house.

To prevent them, I'll have to paint and caulk and replace some of the siding boards. They don't like painted wood. I'm on that, as soon at the pine pollen stops dusting everything in sight.

Operation siding

2010-03-21T10:10:00.000-07:00

Success. Figured out how saw works, cut, pulled and extracted seven boards. All while wearing my pajamas.

Now I can come back and add insulation and look for some wallboard so I can hang organizers.

Siding transplant

2010-03-16T16:52:00.000-07:00

The exterior painting job is moving along -- as long as my latest scheme will work.

I am transplanting siding.

The south side of the house has some really warped boards -- split and pulling away from the frame.

This is a 1939 house with its original siding, so I can't get any boards with that profile without paying for custom work. That's when I realized I might have some pristine siding tucked away somewhere else.

My enclosed back porch has the "donor" siding.

I pulled off some crappy paneling off one wall the other evening and found it in excellent condition. Now I have to figure out how to extract it.

It's old, dry and nailed firmly into the wall. I started to tug at it, and some of the wood split.

Here's my plan: With a skinny and flexible saw, I'll get under the reveal, cut the nails, then use either a reciprocating saw (something I've never used before) or a hand saw to cut away swaths of siding. I need to have long enough planks to replace about four or five areas on the south side and more on the equally weather-worn west side.

But this opens another DIY can of worms. I'll be pulling apart the back porch walls. I can use this opportunity to install insulation (glory be!) and put up proper drywall. That also means moving the laundry unit, displacing my tool storage and potentially finding more problems in those old walls.

Any advice on siding transplants?

The DIY Winter Olympics schedule

2010-02-26T18:47:00.000-08:00

Today

Preliminaries in exterior painting (taped delay due to inclement weather)

Live streaming: Lowe's slalom (clearance bins obstacle course)

Nordic snowblowing large hill event (15km)

Pairs raking (long program)

Halfpipe plumbing

Roof jumping

Winter view

2010-02-19T20:29:00.000-08:00

I grew up in Chicago, and experienced many a big snowfall. But, in the South, a storm yielding 8 inches is akin to a blizzard. And it made everyone about 15 percent more happy. Our newspaper Web site got more than 400 photos from readers -- all frolicking in the snow -- and it was delightful. Pardon me if I sigh a bit over our winter, which lasted all of 36 hours.

Here's my contribution:

The leap

2010-02-19T19:50:00.000-08:00

I have rearranged my finances to get enough money for my bathroom remodel to begin. Tell me what mistakes I'm bound to make.

Getting the check soon. Added to my tax refund, I should be able to finance it and start in the next few weeks.

I plan to:

-- Add a pocket door to the space, adding about six square feet to the space.

-- Replace my crappy old window with a glass block window.

-- Add a heated tiled floor. Yep, I live in the South, but I love me some heated floor.

-- Rearrange the bathroom fixtures (requiring some toilet and bath moving -- plumbing work!)

-- and build a custom vanity to fit the space, and carve in a vertical shelf unit.

My trusted kitchen guy, Pee Wee (yep, his name) will work on this. I'm calling him next week.

What mistakes shall I anticipate? And how shall I avoid them?

Cabin fever!

2010-02-11T20:53:00.000-08:00

Haven't done a thing outside in three weeks -- traveling, crappy weekends, crappy weeks at work -- and I've got some DIY cabin fever.

So I'm distracting myself in the usual ways: knitting, watching the endless parade of Jenny Sanford appearances on television, and trying to stay warm.

It's all Drafty McDraftpants here. I dream of blown-in insulation in the walls. But until then...

I have hardwood floors above a crawl space, and while I've put plastic on some of the ground, it's not everywhere, and an insulation job a few years ago fell apart pretty easily. A friend suggested tacking tar paper to the floor from below. What do you think of that? Another wasted effort? Or economical solution?

Prime time

2010-01-19T20:10:00.000-08:00

Before I began prepping my exterior for painting, I read a long article on thisoldhouse.com detailing the steps. Scrap, clean, scrap again, sand, fix, prime and paint.

I was determined not to take any shortcuts.

I'm taking shortcuts.

My confession comes as I finish priming the north side of my house. It's the least damaged part, and is mostly hidden from public view. So I figured I could learn from this and not mess up the other parts of my exterior.

I hand-scraped, but some of the paint was embedded in the wood. I sanded, but I couldn't feather the surface enough. I cleaned, but I didn't use any TSP, since I don't want to damage any plants nearby. And I fixed minimally, but I can't replace any wooden boards.

I'm priming with an oil primer -- oh the joy of getting that out of my hair. I'm kinda sloppy about it.

And now I have to decide whether to begin painting, or go back and start over.

I think I'll paint. I need to have something finished, my chosen color on my house, or else I'll go mad with inertia.

It'll be OK. I'm learning. Help me -- how can I keep my momentum without shortcutting the process? Any tricks, gadgets or tips?

And the color is (drum roll...)

2009-12-31T14:14:00.000-08:00

...Indigo Batik from Sherwin-Williams.

It makes me swoon.

A friend agrees, saying it's a good color for a South Carolina home. And, "it's got enough juju to scare away the haints."

Fine by me.

And, drum roll.... This is part of the north side of my house. Shot during the Southern Great Storm of 2010, which blew 8 inches through South Carolina in one day. (And melted in 36 hours). I peeked inside a wall inside my laundry room, which has the original siding in older colors, and found that this dark blue might have been the original color of the house. Good color karma.

i likee.

House color help!

2009-12-18T22:37:00.000-08:00

Looking for a good dark gray -- a saturated color that still is warm....for the exterior of my house. Want to mimic those beautiful Portland, Ore. arts and crafts homes.

I have a gray now, with darker trim, but want to change to white trim.

I used a color application to mimic one of these colors -- this is Olympic Range from Sherwin-Willliams, sloppily on the left, with white trim.

Any other suggestions?

Impressions

2009-12-02T20:20:00.000-08:00

I'm tidying up, clearing some space, taking out the garbage. It's a big day, and I want to make a good impression.

The plumbers are coming tomorrow to install a new faucet and kitchen sink.

Why am I so concerned with what these contractors think? After all, I pay them to do work.

Maybe it's that little hint of smug superiority when someone discovers that my big problem has an easy solution.

The heating guy was all full of himself ("This is a story I'm going to tell the guys in the office," he said, with a slight swagger in his voice) when he found out my programmable thermometer was wired wrong, triggering the heat AND the air conditioning, freezing me out of my home for THREE SEASONS.

Last week, another plumber pulled out a teeny black washer from my bathroom faucet and declared it fixed. Months ago, I dutifully replaced a cartridge (see "Drop by drop, draining" blog entry, if you care) but left an extra washer in the handle. It didn't take him five minutes.

I'm all grateful and that after a problem -- like the heating -- is fixed, but it reminds me that this home improvement thing is a lot more overwhelming, and I need a lot more help. And money to pay for the help.

UPDATE: Post-plumbing. "That sink don't fit." My bargain sink is going back, and an expensive one will take its place. Damn you, superior beings!!

All you need is love

2009-11-16T19:21:00.000-08:00

Am I in love with my house, or am I holding back real emotional attachment until the house is all fixed up? Why can't I just love it the way it is? Why is home improvement like falling in love?

Let's not turn this in a "Sex and the City" episode.

We've been experiencing incredible weather, for November and for the South. So I've been unfurling my hammock and chillin' in the back yard.

From the hammock, I get to see the back of my house from a new perspective. It's still not repainted (although I've made headway on prep work on the north side) but it looks a bit lovely in the fading fall afternoon light. My garden is bursting with beauty, almost as it was taking one deep, final breath before exhaling for winter.

And for a few hours, I can let go of my inner to-do list -- remodel my bathroom on a budget, get a driveway done, or, now that my heating is fixed, finish installing storm windows.

It's like I've been dating for four years, but think: he might not be The One -- If only he would just dress up more, drive a little better car, or not laugh so loud.

Instead, I start thinking that way about myself. I'm Bridget Jones, often dumbstruck that someone would want me -- My life is beginning to show its age, and work is getting worse.

Love this house the way it is? Every project -- completed -- makes me feel a little more comfortable about being proud of this house. Maybe I really want this house to love me.

Dear Ms. Home Improvement Manners

2009-10-31T14:23:00.000-07:00

I am scraping the first part of the exterior of the house, and I just realized how loud and annoying it is.

Am I bothering the neighbors? Did you ever think all your home improvement activities were the equivalent of putting a car up on blocks in the front yard? I'm beginning to suspect so.

The scraping reverberates between my house and next door. I try to do it on late Friday morning, when I suspect no one is home. I spend about an hour scraping before I get tired, and by then someone has come home.

I'm also self-conscious about leafblowing. I bought an electric leafblower, and at least it's a little less loud. I don't use it until after noon on weekends -- I live around a lot of younger people and they don't even emerge from their homes until noon.

What do you do to mind your manners?

From fixer upper to historic

2009-10-16T15:52:00.000-07:00

When does an old home transition from vintage to historic?

I pondered that as I learned the neighborhood association is chronicling a history of the older homes, and mine is among them.

My house was built in 1939. It sat in the middle of bunch of farmland owned by the same family that built my house. My neighbor, who is 95 years old, is the original owner of the house. I learned my house had a tin roof.

So, for the first time, I told someone I lived in an historic home. And I closely examined whether I was restoring it or rehabbing it. I'm not tearing down any walls, nor messing with the floors or the layout. I added a railing on the front porch, which takes a bit away from its Lowcountry charm. But the roof lines are more cottage/arts and crafts anyway.

I live in an historic home. How about that?

It has been..

2009-10-16T15:39:00.000-07:00

Fifteen days since I've been to a home improvement store. The last time was to buy products for a photo shoot; I went to a conference, then had a week's furlough, which I spent at the beach.

Fall to me is cuddling time. That means switching from DIY mode to "buy fall clothes" mode. And, boy, have I. I headed to a department store the other day to check out a sale on boots, and the store was crowded. I had to wait in line to buy my boots; I laughed when the clerk apologized. "I don't care. I can't believe there's a line. The recession's over. Wo-hoo! Let's all buy shoes."

I'm not abandoning my house makeover. This weekend, I start planning to paint the exterior of my house. My first task is to head to a real paint store and get some samples -- and some decent advice. I want to paint the house a darker gray, with a hint of brown, to make it look like those beautiful arts and crafts homes in Portland, Oregon.

But before that -- prep. Pressure washing a 1939 home might mean trouble. I might sand a few areas, but the wood's so old I'm afraid it might break off.

Any suggestions on good prep? Should I try to master a sprayer, of will a good ole paintbrush work instead?

The sitcom moment

2009-09-21T18:57:00.000-07:00

So, after Will spends all that time installing a new light fixture, he uses the sink, then says...

How come your hot water doesn't work?

Don't go there, Will. Just don't go there.

That 'Big Chill' moment

2009-09-19T05:48:00.000-07:00

When Kevin Kline, good guy husband, agrees to be a sperm donor for single gal Mary Kay Place, I think of all the husbands I've enlisted to help with a project or two.

Dave helped my brother and I with a railing on the front porch. Aaron connected my first propane tank in the gas grill (he noted that I was "such a girl"). My brother-in-law dutifully showed me how to change out an outlet. Johnny saved me from crown molding hell and a couple of other disasters.

Will was the latest recruit -- he helped me switch out a light fixture in the bathroom. I don't like to touch electricity.

"For you, it'll be a 10-minute job," I joked.

Ten minutes later, Will is on his way to Lowe's. He comes back with washers and toggle bolts.

"In a modern house," he drolly begins, "you would have a junction box here. But this isn't a modern house." Instead there are two woolly wires sticking out of the wall.

The bracket for the light fixture is designed to be affixed to a junction box. Will got the washers to float the screws from the bracket to the fixture, and the toggle bolts secured the breaker. Very MacGyver.

Three hours later, with light fading, we get it done.

Another husband, spent.

Bathroom tweaking

2009-09-04T15:58:00.001-07:00

This is the "before" photo of my skinny bathroom.

It's what local folks call a "Shandon bathroom," after the neighborhood where most of these 1930s homes were built. I grew up in a Chicago flat, then a small bungalow in which the sole bathroom was not much bigger.

I'm tweaking it -- replacing the floor tile, patching and painting the walls, and changing the palette to gray from yellow. I frosted the bottom half of the window, which I think is a genius idea.

I'd rather be shifting the sink, toilet and tub around, adding a heated floor, new drywall (and insulation!) and adding a bit of square footage with a pocket door.

I gotta wait until next spring, when my tax money comes in and I'm on a little better financial footing. So, for now, tweaking.

Peeling back the layers

2009-09-02T19:23:00.000-07:00

I like to peel things: I used to cover my palm in Elmer's glue, wait for it to dry, then peel it off. I love contact paper, and that protective plastic on electronic equipment.

So, when I saw a tiny flake on an obscure bit of wall in a bedroom, I couldn't resist. I start to peel it back -- the paint came off, and under it, some wallpaper. Peel away I did, and found myself baring an early form of drywall. Peel on a corner, and another wall is exposed.

I spent days just peeling away, revealing layers of paint, green, red and, maybe, a blue.

Scribbled on one of those bare wells, the name Jenny. Written large with a flourish, as if a young girl were declaring herself to the world.

Jenny.

The name belongs to the daughter of the original owners, the O'Cains. Mrs. O'Cain now lives next door, and she's 95. Her daughter Jenny comes by every day to check on her mom, who broke her hip last year and can't walk around without a bit of help.

Jenny and her mother call my place "The old house." Jenny doesn't remember writing her name. But that mark became a part of the house, revealing itself about 40 years later.

How long has this been going on?

2009-08-12T19:54:00.001-07:00

I'm wondering, how long can a project remain unfinished?

One friend is on Year Four of a bathroom, another is halfway done after a couple of months. I'm on Month Three of the lattice fiasco, but I attribute my lack of progress on the heat. It was kinda dumb to do something outdoors this time of year.

On one segment of a DIY show, the homeowner revealed she had gone a year without a kitchen.

I've decided on a Plan B for the bathroom -- an updated floor, paint and some new towels -- and it's been about three weeks. I expect to be done by the end of this weekend. I need some framing work, but, wisely, I will leave that to someone else.

And then, I rest. Until fall, when I begin --- THE GREAT paint project. I'm going to paint the exterior of my house.

There will be photos.

I want your blood -- and some nails

2009-08-03T18:40:00.001-07:00

Catching up with episodes of "True Blood." Bill the vampire can't get an electrician to come out. Join the club. Dead for more than a century, and he still wants to re-do a house.

I'm doomed.

2009-08-01T15:08:00.001-07:00

Drop by drop, draining

2009-07-20T16:49:00.000-07:00

Not one, but two faucets leak now. The first started in the bathroom sink about a year ago. Now there's one in the kitchen sink. The reason they're still leaking explains how I approach home improvement.

Stage 1: Confidence rules. Ah, I've seen how these get fixed; you turn off the water (that I never mess up) then slowly deconstruct the faucet, checking each piece to make sure it's not cracked. Then I reassemble it, tightening nuts and whatnots.

Drip, drip, drip.

Stage 2: Vulcan-like logic sets in. I'm at Lowe's, and I see a replacement kit. Voila! The next day, I'm carefully taking apart the faucet. I pop it in my purse, and, the next time I'm at Lowe's, I find one that matches and bring it home. It's all good, until I'm buttoning up the last cap.

Drip, drip, drip.

Stage 3: Regroup. Maybe there's something else. I check under the sink. Can't get under there to tighten anything. I try replacing the aforementioned part again. Aha, I discover a new step. I've conquered it, finally!

Drip, drip, drip.

Stage 4: I give up. I'll wait until I'm remodeling my bathroom to get it fixed. Until then, I've turned off the hot water. No drip, drip, drip.

Green needs green

2009-07-14T19:34:00.000-07:00

When will environmentally friendly products be friendly on the pocketbook?

I was editing a fine story about "green" products, including solar panels, sustainable building materials, etc. But even federal and state tax credits make it very hard for anyone to afford. Like electric cars, demand will lower prices, but there's not enough demand because no one can afford them.

And there's a little hypocrisy in touting green renovations. A truly green one does as little renovating as possible. Dumping your kitchen cabinets in a landfill for ones with bamboo fronts is hardly green.

That said, I would looooove a recycled glass tiled bathroom.

2009-07-05T21:33:00.001-07:00

House Hunters International did Buenos Aires, then Uruguay -- a reminder of luv guv's travels?

Plan A vs. Plan B

2009-07-05T20:59:00.000-07:00

My air conditioner sucked away $1,200 from my bathroom renovation fund last week. Sucked away in replacing a blower, a fan and a compressor. I'm not convinced the initial visit by the A/C guy didn't cause the problems that led to the second visit, but I'll deal with that soon.

What I'm most distressed about is that another Plan A in my life is becoming more elusive. Plan A involved a budget to rearrange the sink, toilet and bathtub so the space would be used better. To replace a creaky, rotted wood window with glass blocks, to have a small vanity made to fit the space and maximize storage. To add a heated tile floor and a fan.

I'm $1,200 further from that goal now. And I just learned I have to take a week of furlough, another chunk of change sucked away. And I took a pay cut in the spring.

"Why can't you just do something different?" counseled my friend last week.

"No, that's Plan B," I said. "I want a Plan A in my life."

I have lived my life settling for Plan Bs, and just once, I want to do a Plan A. I've never been married (no big wedding, and even so, my family was too poor to even finance anything). I waited until I was 45 to buy a house, and spent three years saving the money for a down payment. I've settled for used furniture, stuff off the street and IKEA (the novelty wears off quick). Nor do I have a dress that cost more than $45.

If my job goes away -- I'm in the newspaper business -- I'll be dead broke again. My retirement is looking more and more like another Plan B.

Usually, I do not respond to a financial setback like a plucky Briton in World War II. I get mad, and try to do something -- buy something -- that might make me feel like a Plan A person again. And that just defeats the purpose of it all.

So I'm trying to hang on. Forget that my friends, my family, live in nice houses with sidewalks and mature plantings and insulated walls and garages. Remember that I'm in one of the most challenging times of my industry, my economy.

And thinking of a way to salvage Plan A.

Reality of reality TV home improvement

2009-06-23T18:22:00.000-07:00

I must give props to the folks who produced the "HGTV $250,000 Challenge," a limited series that finished up Sunday,

It was a show I taped, since I work Sunday nights. You NEVER have to tape any HGTV programs, because they are on endlessly. I can name that "Designed to Sell" ep like others can name that "Law & Order" episode by the time they hear the "pppummm, pum."

The show pitted five families in one Southern Californian neighborhood, giving them money, little time but a lot of carpentry help to rehab one room at a time.

A panel of judges (HGTV stars, pimping for the network) would eliminate one family at a time. The winning duo would win the prize, while getting four rooms renovated.

There were tears, missteps, and numerous trips to Home Depot. It was as close to real home improvement gets on cable television.

It was comforting to see couples lost in what to do -- one almost had a breakdown picking furniture, another had five different colors of paint, and still couldn't decide.

I watch most of these other damned shows, absorbing their tips and tricks like Republicans digest common talking points. But my reality is tears, missteps and numerous trips to Lowe's. the "Challenge" series was a change of pace.

Nice to know I'm not alone.

2009-06-21T09:25:00.001-07:00

It has been 1 day(s) since I've been to lowe's.

june 21, 2009: I have dirt in my hair

2009-06-21T08:53:00.000-07:00

I have dirt in my hair. Not dirty hair. Pieces of dirt in my hair. Bits I can feel as I pull my hand through the crown to straighten my pony tail.

I've been under my deck, screwing in lattice panels. I've been at this for weeks, thinking about how to install it, looking at You Tube videos, buying and returning and buying supplies.

And I thought I had come up with a plan to join the lattice, finish the ends, install a removable panel and make my tired deck look more finished. The first panel is on, but it's in the same shape as anything I try to do in my house: a little off, a little sloppy, and a lot undone.

Next month, I will have owned this house -- a 1938 wooden bungalow in the South -- for four years. It was an unloved beauty when I bought it. It now has a flagstone patio, three side gardens, a railing on the front porch, crown molding, a rehabbed kitchen. A healthy list of home improvements, but this home is far from finished.

It's not the house -- it's me. I can't stop thinking that if I did this or that, it would finally begin to look like one of those houses I see on HGTV. Maybe then I would feel finished, a fully formed adult. Instead, I look at this cockeyed lattice, and still feel a little off, a little sloppy and a lot undone.

I have to go wash my hair now.