No white horses here. No knights in shining armor. Just well-meaning friends with not enough time on their hands and poor communication skills.
While having a new bathroom is great, it would be even greater if the ventilation system in said bathroom had been vented to the outside rather than spewing nearly a year's worth of humidity up into the unfinished attic. Second best would have been being told that the vent was not vented, and steps would have been taken to ensure that it was vented.
Instead, the scenario now is that nearly all of my personal possessions -- and yes, they are mine. I'm not going to apologize for hoarding, for owning things that are precious to me, or even to go down the path that borders on the materialistic. These things are mine; I've collected them for a reason, sometimes paying more than I should and I shouldn't have to apologize for that. The end result: weaving loom reeds that are now ruined by the damp. Yarns, fabric, clothes and knick-knacks indelibly littered by must.
All of this because mold and mildew has gained a foothold in my heretofore dry attic. Mold that now has to be scraped off the walls, and infected items thrown away.
Worse: the sicknesses this winter that kept me from working. Two separate cases, and in my case, no work equals no pay. Never mind the out of pocket expenses associated with antibiotics, doctor visits and inhalers. And major surgery which was delayed because of the illness.
Finally, the costs that will be associated with mold mitigation. On top of ruined goods that will have to be discarded and perhaps never replaced.
This is perhaps the final straw in the degradation process. Not caring about the personal possessions -- the total sum of my life packed away still in small boxes, now ruined. The loss of income, the further ruination of something I thought was being improved. And the potential loss of friendship. Not nice. At all.
Sunday, 29 April 2012
Thursday, 8 March 2012
More than a series of frustrations
Well, the half-assed work from the contractors is beginning to rear its ugly head, in more ways than one. Here's just a few of the times left to contend with, at least those I can think of as of this moment.
Hole left in roof: Moving things in to the attic, accessible via a drop-down ladder, I could see frost on the inside of the roof, something I've never seen here in my nearly 2.5 years. Climbing further, it smelled a bit mildewy. I came closer to look to realize that there was mold, on the inside, and it had crystallized. Following the east side of the roof line down, I realized I could see the exterior shingles, via a roughly 18" square that had been a cutout for a vent or such.
This was a real shocker, as I hadn't been up in about six months or so. I would say that most of my personal possessions stored in the attic, unless they are in plastic tub boxes, are ruined.
The fix: cut out a respective piece of plywood, picture-frame it and then seal it from the inside.
Estimated time to complete: One to two hours
Front door not plumb: And leaking water, to boot, over the interior subfloor. I've leveled the floor, somewhat, with that concrete leveler stuff, and put down the cheap vinyl tiles over it. I haven't yet silicone kitted the tiles where the threshold is in under the door, figuring if I want someone to look at the floor, the tiles will be easily removed. But I have no idea if this will slow the water down or not. When contacted by email, the contractor basically said that they'd had a lot of trouble hanging the door, and basically this was the best I could expect. Oh yeah, the locket was used; the key handed to me said "Ace Hardware" on it. I wonder who has the original?
Solution: Rehang door
Estimated time: One hour, plus repairs to subfloor, etc.
2 x 4's left at 45 degree angle protuding over cellar stairs: A small closet was built in the entryway, over the cellar stairs. The vertical 2 x 4's were sawed off at a 45 degree angle and left so that anyone heading downstairs is sure to come into direct contact with it.
Solution: Saw off 2 x 4's.
Estimated time: 15 minutes
Guttering is useless: And has been noticed in some places to have deep slashes in it. Without getting up onto the roof, it's hard to tell if the slashes are all the way or only surface. The guttering also terminates at the house, allowing any runoff to go directly back into the cellar. The gutter over the front door allows water to pass through it and the house, also rendering the front landing useless.
Solution: Add extension pieces to front and back houses, allowing drainage to be moved further away from house. Check out guttering on roof. Over front door? No idea.
Estimated time: Tough one for me to say.
These are only the items I can think of at the moment. Then there's the old roof shingles that have been thrown over the side of the hill down onto the neighbor's property, the "fix" of the too small windows placed in frames, which is going to require more framing on the outside. The dryer that was left unvented in the cellar. The plastic ironing board rack that also holds an iron was not sized; I can't get the iron in it because there's not enough room between the base and the ceiling.
Phone calls have gone unreturned. I have several options: 1) small claims court, with a $75 filing fee. 2) Retain an attorney, with a fee of around $250. No contingency basis possible. 3) File a claim with the State Attorney General's office. Any mediation would be voluntary and non-binding. 4) Angie's list, with a negative review. 5) Publish names, amounts paid, transgressions and pictures. But then I'd probably get sued, right?
I do have to wonder if the person who referred these two idiots to me was getting a kickback. The two are also brother-in-laws, with two different dba's. Often the estimate/contract would be written on one company name, and a check written to the other.
Hole left in roof: Moving things in to the attic, accessible via a drop-down ladder, I could see frost on the inside of the roof, something I've never seen here in my nearly 2.5 years. Climbing further, it smelled a bit mildewy. I came closer to look to realize that there was mold, on the inside, and it had crystallized. Following the east side of the roof line down, I realized I could see the exterior shingles, via a roughly 18" square that had been a cutout for a vent or such.
This was a real shocker, as I hadn't been up in about six months or so. I would say that most of my personal possessions stored in the attic, unless they are in plastic tub boxes, are ruined.
The fix: cut out a respective piece of plywood, picture-frame it and then seal it from the inside.
Estimated time to complete: One to two hours
Front door not plumb: And leaking water, to boot, over the interior subfloor. I've leveled the floor, somewhat, with that concrete leveler stuff, and put down the cheap vinyl tiles over it. I haven't yet silicone kitted the tiles where the threshold is in under the door, figuring if I want someone to look at the floor, the tiles will be easily removed. But I have no idea if this will slow the water down or not. When contacted by email, the contractor basically said that they'd had a lot of trouble hanging the door, and basically this was the best I could expect. Oh yeah, the locket was used; the key handed to me said "Ace Hardware" on it. I wonder who has the original?
Solution: Rehang door
Estimated time: One hour, plus repairs to subfloor, etc.
2 x 4's left at 45 degree angle protuding over cellar stairs: A small closet was built in the entryway, over the cellar stairs. The vertical 2 x 4's were sawed off at a 45 degree angle and left so that anyone heading downstairs is sure to come into direct contact with it.
Solution: Saw off 2 x 4's.
Estimated time: 15 minutes
Guttering is useless: And has been noticed in some places to have deep slashes in it. Without getting up onto the roof, it's hard to tell if the slashes are all the way or only surface. The guttering also terminates at the house, allowing any runoff to go directly back into the cellar. The gutter over the front door allows water to pass through it and the house, also rendering the front landing useless.
Solution: Add extension pieces to front and back houses, allowing drainage to be moved further away from house. Check out guttering on roof. Over front door? No idea.
Estimated time: Tough one for me to say.
These are only the items I can think of at the moment. Then there's the old roof shingles that have been thrown over the side of the hill down onto the neighbor's property, the "fix" of the too small windows placed in frames, which is going to require more framing on the outside. The dryer that was left unvented in the cellar. The plastic ironing board rack that also holds an iron was not sized; I can't get the iron in it because there's not enough room between the base and the ceiling.
Phone calls have gone unreturned. I have several options: 1) small claims court, with a $75 filing fee. 2) Retain an attorney, with a fee of around $250. No contingency basis possible. 3) File a claim with the State Attorney General's office. Any mediation would be voluntary and non-binding. 4) Angie's list, with a negative review. 5) Publish names, amounts paid, transgressions and pictures. But then I'd probably get sued, right?
I do have to wonder if the person who referred these two idiots to me was getting a kickback. The two are also brother-in-laws, with two different dba's. Often the estimate/contract would be written on one company name, and a check written to the other.
Wednesday, 13 January 2010
Completing a circuit
Hannah and I had looked at the electrical outlets in the living room and realized that the wiring was ancient. I had bought some three-prongers, in anticipation that they could be easily swapped over, but after seeing the knob-and-tube, we gave it up. I have to re-affix the outlet covers, because as all experienced DYI-ers do, we ran out of time and ended up finishing the thermostat in th e dark. Or rather Hannah did, as I parked my butt on the couch and watched her put the tools away.
Today's ambition was to finish the tiling in the kitchen, but I'm not sure how far I'll get.
I just hauled two garbage bags of old junk from the basement and some old cardboard. There's a fair amount of old lumber down there that needs to go to the transfer station, but I'm not sure how much I can manage today. This alone will help keep down some of the odors I hope.
But the good news is... the old wiring follows either a central truss, or the perimeter of the house and is easily accessible. When I decide that I want to tackle re-wiring, and yes, I do. I do know how to read the code.... it shouldn't be that difficult.. famous last words I know, but the greatest relief comes from knowing that I'm not going to have to tear the walls apart to get at wiring. Fishing... coat hanger sacrifice. Hmmm... life insurance probably isn't a bad idea though.
Today's ambition was to finish the tiling in the kitchen, but I'm not sure how far I'll get.
I just hauled two garbage bags of old junk from the basement and some old cardboard. There's a fair amount of old lumber down there that needs to go to the transfer station, but I'm not sure how much I can manage today. This alone will help keep down some of the odors I hope.
But the good news is... the old wiring follows either a central truss, or the perimeter of the house and is easily accessible. When I decide that I want to tackle re-wiring, and yes, I do. I do know how to read the code.... it shouldn't be that difficult.. famous last words I know, but the greatest relief comes from knowing that I'm not going to have to tear the walls apart to get at wiring. Fishing... coat hanger sacrifice. Hmmm... life insurance probably isn't a bad idea though.
Correctional Creations
Yesterday, I asked my daughter to make a detour while we were in Concord, New Hampshire. I'd remembered from years ago that the New Hampshire Department of Corrections encouraged it's male prisoners to take part in, and actively learn woodworking and other hand skills. Their efforts are sold to the general public, and the inventory ranges from small items like jewelry boxes, birdhouses and mailboxes to cedar chests, deacon tables and small end tables. Lots of cherry and walnut, lightly finished and not stained, and one jewelry box that caught my eye that had been done in black walnut and cherry so that the woods contrasted each other.
Definitely worth a return trip.... will have to strap the roof racks on the Subaru and try not to buy anything too large.
Definitely worth a return trip.... will have to strap the roof racks on the Subaru and try not to buy anything too large.
Tuesday, 12 January 2010
Big checks and small accomplishments
Well, it's been a strange, and stressful few days. The carpenters have been here and the two doors have been finished. The ceiling has been ripped down and replaced in the breezeway. The garage door opener has been installed.
My daughter and I tackled a few projects. Out of the 180 floor tiles in the kitchen/hallway, I've managed to put down about 150. The old ones were circa 1960, about 3 mm thick, heavily discoloured, and quite frankly, I've been on-site on piggeries where the odour was better. A few mishaps along the way, with sacrificed tiles and bloodied knuckles and I also pushed myself too far. My ass hurt. My knees hurt. But the light at the end of the tunnel is clearly visible.
Hannah somehow managed to pry out the lightbulb in the light fixture at the bottom of the basement stairs, ensuring that at least I won't break my neck because of the lack of light. Breaking it for other reasons.. those are still open....
We also tackled, together, with minimal swearing on both our parts, the removal of the circa 1950's Sears thermostat from the wall and the replacement thereof with a brand spanking new Honeywell digital thermostat. Which is now programmed to shut itself off at 10 p.m., which gives me exactly 32 minutes to put myself to bed if I want it to remain 70 degrees fahrenheit while I'm still awake. I think I'm ready.
Also discovered that the majority of the house is wired with knob-and-tube wiring. Note to self: find out if GFI's (total three in house), are wired to an independent circuit breaker per code.
Second note to self: decide if self wants to try wiring an electrical outlet in basement so that dehumidifier can be plugged in. Alternative is 25 yard garden extension cord to be plugged in in kitchen as temporary fix.
Self is no longer able to cope with such decisions and is going to bed with pillow over head. Things will look better in daylight, and perhaps bedroom will look better with four yellow walls instead of one yellow wall with sage paint bleeding through and three sage green walls. One can only hope.
My daughter and I tackled a few projects. Out of the 180 floor tiles in the kitchen/hallway, I've managed to put down about 150. The old ones were circa 1960, about 3 mm thick, heavily discoloured, and quite frankly, I've been on-site on piggeries where the odour was better. A few mishaps along the way, with sacrificed tiles and bloodied knuckles and I also pushed myself too far. My ass hurt. My knees hurt. But the light at the end of the tunnel is clearly visible.
Hannah somehow managed to pry out the lightbulb in the light fixture at the bottom of the basement stairs, ensuring that at least I won't break my neck because of the lack of light. Breaking it for other reasons.. those are still open....
We also tackled, together, with minimal swearing on both our parts, the removal of the circa 1950's Sears thermostat from the wall and the replacement thereof with a brand spanking new Honeywell digital thermostat. Which is now programmed to shut itself off at 10 p.m., which gives me exactly 32 minutes to put myself to bed if I want it to remain 70 degrees fahrenheit while I'm still awake. I think I'm ready.
Also discovered that the majority of the house is wired with knob-and-tube wiring. Note to self: find out if GFI's (total three in house), are wired to an independent circuit breaker per code.
Second note to self: decide if self wants to try wiring an electrical outlet in basement so that dehumidifier can be plugged in. Alternative is 25 yard garden extension cord to be plugged in in kitchen as temporary fix.
Self is no longer able to cope with such decisions and is going to bed with pillow over head. Things will look better in daylight, and perhaps bedroom will look better with four yellow walls instead of one yellow wall with sage paint bleeding through and three sage green walls. One can only hope.
Saturday, 5 December 2009
Twilight House
Well, it's mine. Complete with one working key and three doors that are missing keys.
The post is called Twilight House because that's what it seems to be. It's situated at the top of a hill in a quiet neighbourhood. The sun rises over the garage and slowly moves across the back of the house, casting the front kitchen and living room into shadows. A lot hasn't been done since it was built in the 1950's, and the most manageable changes, I'm arranging for now. New doors. New windows. And eventually a new bath and kitchen, with some floorspace in the attic being converted into liveable space.
After all, what's the use of having a full-sized weaving loom and stained glass making equipment if one doesn't have work space?
What needs to happen before I can move. Furniture! And dishes, since I literally don't have anything except a couple of baking pans. Giving up coffee means no coffee maker for the time being -- I wonder though since I'm down to about two to three cups per week if I downsize and have one really good cup of coffee... have to ruminate some more about that one. Or take more Prilosec.
The post is called Twilight House because that's what it seems to be. It's situated at the top of a hill in a quiet neighbourhood. The sun rises over the garage and slowly moves across the back of the house, casting the front kitchen and living room into shadows. A lot hasn't been done since it was built in the 1950's, and the most manageable changes, I'm arranging for now. New doors. New windows. And eventually a new bath and kitchen, with some floorspace in the attic being converted into liveable space.
After all, what's the use of having a full-sized weaving loom and stained glass making equipment if one doesn't have work space?
What needs to happen before I can move. Furniture! And dishes, since I literally don't have anything except a couple of baking pans. Giving up coffee means no coffee maker for the time being -- I wonder though since I'm down to about two to three cups per week if I downsize and have one really good cup of coffee... have to ruminate some more about that one. Or take more Prilosec.
With apologies to Thomas Wolfe
Mr. Wolfe said you can't go home again. Well, here I am. Or at least as close to it as I think I am.
Six months ago, everything was packed up into big white boxes and taken away by three robust young men. Here, on the other side of the pond, the process was repeated in reverse, only things went into a storage unit. Strange to think of my life condensed into such a small space. Even stranger to open these boxes and to have conflicting emotions occuring. Sometimes opening things and seeing old friends. Sometimes opening and thinking... whyever was that important to me? And finally.. oh yes... someday soon, you will be on the mantel again soon, I promise. To quote another luminary.. I feel like the Maureen O'Hara character in A Quiet Man, whose husband couldn't understand why she was deviling him about having her dowry. "I must have my things about me" she says. And I exactly what she means. Who wants to camp when luxury means having a favourite book at hand?
Six months ago, everything was packed up into big white boxes and taken away by three robust young men. Here, on the other side of the pond, the process was repeated in reverse, only things went into a storage unit. Strange to think of my life condensed into such a small space. Even stranger to open these boxes and to have conflicting emotions occuring. Sometimes opening things and seeing old friends. Sometimes opening and thinking... whyever was that important to me? And finally.. oh yes... someday soon, you will be on the mantel again soon, I promise. To quote another luminary.. I feel like the Maureen O'Hara character in A Quiet Man, whose husband couldn't understand why she was deviling him about having her dowry. "I must have my things about me" she says. And I exactly what she means. Who wants to camp when luxury means having a favourite book at hand?
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