Can't Stop The 'Rock

Sheetrock, that is.  We can't stop it.  Because if we do we will never finish it.

While my parents were here, we accomplished a massive amount of work.  Unfortunately, that means we have a lot of finishing to do.  First, we-- wait, let's back up for a minute and check out some befores and durings.

Here's a pretty good "before."  And by pretty good, I mean it shows how truly hideous the bedroom used to be.  Dark paneling, stained and sagging acoustical tile ceilings with a huge red thing hanging down (the red thing was the ceiling cap for the chimenea that used to be in this corner), awful dirty / ugly / smelly carpet, a brick corner, some pressboard tile (you can see it peeking out from beneath the carpet under the door), etc:

Here's the same view as of this morning.  Sorry I forgot to close the door, but I think you get the idea:

Here's another vista that really captures the frankly depressing quality the bedroom had before:

And same view this morning:

Something else very exciting happened in our house a couple of weeks ago and I completely spaced on posting about it, so here's a before of the weird (broken, funky, badly painted) fixed window we used to have:

And now, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you... a huge and beautiful legal egress window!

That one's in the living room (why don't I have any pictures of the bedroom one?) but it's identical to the one in the bedroom in every way.  Pretty.

Anyhow, along the way we ran into more than a few snags-- I'd say the sheetrock job in here was / is just about as complicated as sheetrocking can get.  Ray and Dad did all the work-- they had to cut around SIX outlets, a light switch, a cable, and two ceiling vents.  Add that to the fact that nothing in here is square (love my old house!) and that all the joists and studs had to be brought to the same level plane so the drywall could be attached, and you have a loooooooot of work to do.  So here's what we did:

1.  Demo.  See previous posts.  It was really gross.

 

2.  Electrical.  We had some outlets converted and some code violations addressed professionally.  Now we're safe and modern and up to code. 

3.  Insulation.  Fresh, clean insulation with no poop or rat holes in it!  Luxury, right?

Here's Dad standing in front of the newly insulated wall right after the first two sheets of drywall went up on the ceiling:

3.  Structure.  Adjusting levels / adding some support posts / getting ready for drywall install.

4.  Drywallin'.  It took days, but it was worth the time.  Good install means easy taping and mudding!  Sort of.

5.  Finishin'.  I'm presently on my second coat of mud all over the room (except the corners and the ceiling).  I'm nervous about the corners-- corners are tricky-- and I'm just dreading the ceiling because sanding drywall over your head is just plain awful.

So here's what we still have to do:

1.  Finish-coat of mud on the seams and screw-divots.
2.  Tape and mud ceiling and corners.
3.  Waterproof the concrete footings and address some complicated moulding issues (post coming soon!) and trim the door and windows and install baseboards. 
4.  Level the concrete subfloor, losing our self-leveling-concrete virginity in the process.
5.  Install underlayment and engineered hardwood flooring (Bruce Wheat Hickory from Home Depot is the winner, more on that to come). 
6.  Paint the room.
7.  Furnish it.
8.  Enjoy it.






Now if you'll excuse me, I need to call the company that's shipping my new sofa and arrange a delivery date.  So much excitement!

Rebuilding the Third Bedroom: Day One

One day of work on the reconstruction of the third bedroom is complete.  In a few days, it will rise, phoenix-like, from the rubble of its former self.  Today was kind of messy and insane, but I'll sleep a little better tonight knowing that attic floor is fully supported and won't come crashing down on our unsuspecting guests.  

Today Ray and my dad (with regular assists from Mom and me) sistered all the torn-up attic joists and supported them with new studs.  First we put up a T-post to support the joists temporarily, then we set our new 2 x 6 joists.  This shot shows the first sistered joist going in:

Here's a little more progress:

And here's my feels-guilty-just-standing-here-while-Dad-does-all-the-work selfie:

Now all the joists are sistered and secure and they're all perfectly level for drywall install.  It wasn't an easy job, partially because the old fir joists and studs are incredibly hard, and whoever did this the first time left behind about 67 bent nails in every board we had to remove to make our fixes.  I took the following photo of some of my favorite bent nails and nail-filled bits of fir:

Yes, that is a piece of wood with seven bent nails in it.  And I LOVE the nail in the center of the photo-- I have no idea exactly how you make a nail turn at a right angle and then loop around into a hook, but evidently it's possible.  So... that's what's been holding up my attic since the 60's.  SO lucky it never fell in.  And so grateful my parents are here to help us do all the stuff we could never, ever, ever do ourselves.  We're learning everything we can and filing away lots of knowledge for future renovations.  Kitchen, I'm looking at you.

On deck for tomorrow: prepping the walls for drywall, moving some wiring, insulating the ceiling, etc.  I can't wait for this space to start looking like an actual bedroom!

Demolition Derby

Well, considering that we're both teaching this summer (ugh) and Ray currently has seven stainless-steel staples in his scalp following a head injury he sustained during a soccer game, I think we're really coming along on the demolition in the third bedroom.  Unfortunately, we're not going to be able to sheetrock it before my parents arrive.  Because behind the paneling is a situation that could only be described as a hot mess.  Seriously, if you look up "hot mess" in the dictionary, there'll be a picture of our third bedroom next to it. 

You see, I've debated even showing these photos-- because what if someone wants to buy this house years down the road and they somehow stumble upon these photos and think OH MY GOD THAT PLACE IS GOING TO FALL DOWN (which would be a completely normal thing to think at this point, as you'll soon see) and then they don't look at the photos that we'll take after we fix all the issues?

But at the end of the day, we're all about real talk, and I don't want to polish this rat turd (if you will).  And before I reveal the freaking disaster we're going to have to deal with, I'll begin by saying that at this point, the paneling and the acoustical tile ceiling are completely gone.  I did a lot of the work all by my lonesome since Ray's concussed, and there were a couple of times I almost had to run from the room and vomit (like when I discovered several two-inch-deep piles of old dried up maggots behind the paneling under the window) and a few giggles (like when I noticed an entire pinecone peeking out of the top of the exterior wall).  But now all we need to do demolition-wise is take up the carpet and the pressboard tiles underneath it.  And then comes the insurmountable task of putting it all back together.

I knew I was in for trouble when I removed the first couple of pieces of paneling.  Understand, this is not cheap-o fake wood paneling-- it's 3/4" thick tongue-and-groove, and every piece was nailed in separately in three to six places.  So it took me a loooong time to pull off the first six pieces.  And when I did, here's what I saw:

Yeah, so... couple of things here.  One: the insulation is randomly inserted into the wall in a way the doesn't even begin to make sense.  But that's no big deal, since we're re-insulating anyway.  The bigger problem is that whoever did this had NO F*CKING CLUE how to frame a wall.  Pro tip: don't D.I.Y if you don't know what you're D.O.I.N.G. 

But really, the next photo shows the big problem:

See how those attic joists aren't resting on anything?  They're (badly) nailed into the wall studs, which keep going up to where their top plate meets the roof supports.  So that part's good-- the roof is properly supported-- but the attic floor is pretty much just floating up there, and it has been for a lot of years.

Additional challenge: the studs aren't quite as deep as the footer, so the construction genius who put the paneling on decided to do... this:

Yup.  What the HELL is that?  This blurry photo shows the top of the wall.  As always, pardon the crap photography.  I think I pretty much deserve a pass on this one since I was wearing a dust mask and safety goggles and work gloves and there was roughly a ton of rat-poop-and-fiberglass dust swirling all around me when I took the picture:

So... good thing my parents are arriving on Tuesday, because they'll know what to do about this.  At least, I hope they do.  Because I sure as hell don't.

SNAFU*

Last night we pulled down the third bedroom's acoustical-tile ceiling in anticipation of our dumpster's arrival this morning.  We were hoping that all the insulation would be in good shape like what we saw during our exploratory demo:

I keep trying to figure out what those light-blobs are, and I think I'm going with "friendly ghosts."

Unfortunately, this was pretty much the only part of the ceiling where the insulation hadn't been completely devoured by our pals the roof rats.  WARNING: THE FOLLOWING IS EXTREMELY GROSS.  DO NOT SCROLL DOWN UNLESS YOU WANT TO SEE SOME TRULY NASTY SHIT.  SERIOUSLY.  DON'T DO IT.  Consider yourself forewarned.

--proceed at your own risk--

 

--what you are about to see cannot be unseen--

--you should really watch cute kitten videos instead of looking at this--

--you're going to regret it if you scroll down because it is really truly gross**--

**Actually, honestly the rat shit doesn't even bother me anymore.  I mean, I'm, like, aware that it's disgusting, but after a whole year of living in this formerly infested house I'm pretty blasé about it.  Roof rats don't carry hantavirus, and all these turds are really old, and I just don't care that much at this point.  Which is probably why I was okay with whipping out my phone to take a bunch of pictures of feces.  Quick anecdote to 1) show how far I've come in my relationship with rodent shit, and 2) give you another opportunity to back out if you're still not sure whether or not you want to see what I'm about to show you:

When we lived in New Haven, our apartment was the second story of an absolutely beautiful house that'd been built in the 1890's.  It was in an awesome neighborhood (if you're familiar with the area, we were just a block down Orange Street from East Rock Park) where we could walk to bars, grocery markets, downtown, parks, everything.  The apartment had high ceilings, two huge bay windows, a butler's pantry, thick original moldings, a private screened porch, old glass doorknobs on six-panel doors, gorgeous glossy hardwood floors, the works.  I loved it passionately.  Anyway, one day I was standing in the butler's pantry talking to my mom on the phone and idly dusting the countertop, and I noticed these little black bugs hanging out near my potatoes.  I picked one up and then, realizing that what I was holding was actually not a bug but was instead a mouse turd, I screamed into the phone.  I skipped work and disinfected the entire kitchen.  I cried the whole time.  Flash forward to now, when there are inch-long rat turds raining down from the ceiling, and all I want to do is take a picture.  Life is funny.

Okay, are you ready?

Nice nest, huh?

Captive rat turds dangling from the insulation.

 Hi there, rat holes!

 This was the biggest nest.

 

 Pile of contaminated insulation.

 Ick.

So after we pulled all the old insulation down and rolled it up into a giant burrito using the plastic drop cloths I'd put down on the floor, we carted it out to our dumpster.  Which is now full of poop.  So, yeah, we'll be re-insulating before we drywall.

*Which is my all-time favorite acronym-- Google it if you aren't familiar.

Third Bedroom, We Barely Knew Ye (Thank God)

Before we totally rip the third bedroom and laundry room apart, I thought we should do a brief retrospective.  Let's take a quick look back at the way they were when we moved in, shall we?

View from kitchen door through laundry room, attic stairs extended, tool closet on the right, horrible filthy mismatched curtains on the big old window:

Laundry room and broken-down attic stairs in all their...glory?

Laundry room a quick coat of paint or four, new appliances, and a curtain over the weird closet-nook:

 

Blurry photo from the other direction:

Plans for this space:

1.  Move light fixture (i.e., bare bulb dangling from the ceiling) and replace with this.

2.  Build wall to frame out what will eventually become a half bath in the back of the space (the end of the room from whence the above photo was taken.

3.  Hang bathroom door.

4.  Convert tool closet so it opens from the bedroom rather than the laundry room; this will involve replacing the paneling on the back with paneling we remove from the 3rd bedroom.  Ditto the new wall we're building.

5.  Install engineered hardwood flooring in the laundry-room side.

6.  Use bathroom side as a storage closet until we have enough scratch for a half-bath.

7.  Demo cabinets above washer / dryer.

8.  Replace attic stairs and drywall the ceiling.

9.  Build new shelving for laundry supplies.

10.  Trim to match the rest of the house, paint.

11.  Replace the door (and hardware, naturally) between the kitchen and laundry rooms with a glass-paned French door.

Whew, that's a lot of stuff.  Anyone wanna take bets on how much of this we will ever get done?

Now onto the third bedroom:

What we're about to do:

1. Remove acoustical tile ceilings and furring strips, carpet, pressboard tile, paneling, and brick pad / mortar. 

2.  Get our electricians (an awesome husband-and-wife duo) out to cap off the junction box in the ceiling (the ceiling is too low for an overhead fixture), safely remove the old (unnecessary) baseboard heating and disconnect the wiring, move the outlets (which for some reason are located halfway up the walls) down to the baseboards where normal people put their electrical outlets, and replace the outlets with GFCIs.  We really like our electricians, so I don't feel weird about giving them all that money.  

3.  Drywall the walls and ceilings.

4.  Have the window replaced with one that opens, not only for comfort's sake, but because the we need an egress window in order to have a legal third bedroom.  Happening August 13 on our one-year homeowning anniversary!

5.  Trim windows, doors, and baseboards with moldings that match those in the rest of the house.

6.  Install floating engineered hardwood floors.

7.  Paint.

We're hoping to have a lot of the bedroom work done when my parents arrive in two weeks-- that way they can help us where we clearly need it most (the laundry space).  We'll update as we go, and I can't. freaking. wait. to show off some After photos.  Our first dumpster is arriving tomorrow morning, and the quest for flooring continues.  If you have any good karma to send our way, we'd appreciate it!

PS: You know you're busy when both you and your spouse forget your wedding anniversary until your mom calls to wish you a happy one.  Yep.  That just happened.

Santa Comes In August

I mean that literally-- Santa came to my house yesterday.  And he installed our new sliding screen doors in the dining room.  

No, really, he did.

Andy from Oregon Screen Crafts is a retired high-school shop teacher who makes awesome screen doors (and other screen things, of course).  He is also our local part-time Santa Claus, because we live in the kind of town where Santa also makes custom screen doors.  

Our quoted price was a very reasonable $337, including installation, for the pair of doors.  But one of the screens was slightly dinged in transit, so Andy offered to either a) make us a new door, or b) give us a $30 discount on the as-is door.  And when we inspected the screen and could baaaaaaaaaaaarely see the ding, we opted for the latter.  So really, Santa came and installed our screens and gave us a $30 discount.  I love Christmas!

 

In other news, the apple tree you see through my pretty new screens is out. of. control. 

3rd Bedroom Demolition Day One: Us, 1; Brick Floor, 0.

This happened yesterday:

Yes, I know that sandals from Anthropologie are not acceptable demolition footwear.  But at least I'm wearing both a dust mask AND safety glasses!

Anyway, after Ray and I took turns busting up the bricks and mortar while the other carted the refuse outside to the site of our soon-to-arrive dumpster, this is what we're working with (blurry photos taken with dusty iPhone as always):

This is my oh-my-God-I-can't-believe-how-easy-that-was demolition selfie:

I know you can't tell but I'm grinning insanely underneath that dust mask.

Mission: Looking Entirely Possible

So we got our asbestos results via email today, and I couldn't believe my eyes when we were given the all-clear to rip those ceiling tiles out with abandon.  I blinked, like, thirty-seven times in disbelief.  I may or may not have gotten a little teary.  This is pretty much the first bone our house has thrown us, and I'd like to think of it as our place's  First-Anniversary-Thanks-For-Renovatin'-Me gift to us.  

As we were sitting here on the sofa after dinner, reveling in the good no-asbestos news, we started to wonder what we were going to find inside the ceiling.  I'd watched this video and I was pretty terrified that the same fate was about to befall us.  So we decided we'd just do a little exploratory demo, just to see what we were up against.  Demolition masks and safety goggles firmly in place, we picked a random tile and yanked it down.  There was a brief rain of fossilized rat shit, and then... nothing.  Encouraged, we pulled down a few more tiles.  This is what we saw:

Yup!  The insulation is contained in weird cardboard baggie-things and appears to be in good shape!  Now, I know it's full of sixty-odd years or rodent refuse, and I also know that isn't good, but hey-- it's not going to fall down on us and leave as standing in a waist-deep mixture of dusty blown-in insulation and rat turds, so I'm counting this as a huge positive.  See the furring strips that are running vertically in this photo?  We'll be able to pull them down and gain nearly an inch of ceiling height, and the attic joists appear to be in really good shape so we should be able to screw the drywall right into them.  Like a boss.

After that success, I decided to grab ye olde hammer and chisel and see if I could possibly pry up the big brick pad where the bright red chimenea once sat.

Aside: I took a quick antiquing trip to Portland with my girls M, K, and L a couple of months ago, and we were admiring all the midcentury fabulousness in Sorel's, and that's where I saw the EXACT RED CHIMENEA (I mean literally, I think it was the actual same chimenea) we ripped out of our house... selling for $700.  Damn.  That would've paid for a lot of drywall.  I wish I'd known that stylish Sorel's-type people liked red chimeneas.  Oh well.

Anyway, I'd been nervous about this part because it kind of looked like were were going to have to rent a jackhammer to pry up all the mortar.  Silly me-- a hammer and chisel should take care of this, mortar and all, in no time flat.  Here's what I was able to pry up in two minutes:

Sorry, it's kind of dark in there as the only light comes from overhead.  

The pressboard tile (you're seeing it in the bottom left corner of the photo above) is no longer glued down, so that shouldn't be much of a challenge; the carpet you see on the bottom right is attached directly to the pressboard, so we should be able to make short work of it. 

Then, since we're completely insane, we decided to pry out just one piece of the wood paneling.  That put up a bit more of a fight since we didn't want to remove the "baseboards" (which are actually just stained-to-match 2x4's), but we were able to pry it far enough away from the wall to see that nothing terrifying is happening in there.  Nothing is happening in there at all.  There's some insulation in the top half (?) of the wall, but I was expecting mountains of rat shit / dead animal carcasses / live animals / chewed wiring / Pennywise the Clown / the little girl from The Ring / a black hole.  So I'm going to count that as another win.

So, new plan: Ray and I are going to handle the demo and then use my parents' expertise to get the place put back together again.  Maybe they can help us out in the laundry room, where there are some weird-looking structural things going on.  SO MANY IDEAS.   

 

VICTORY!

Let the demolition begin!