Lame Blogger

I know I'm seriously lame because I haven't written anything in 3 months. And in the meantime, lots and lots of the house got built. First thing: the house is beautiful. Its shaping up to be exactly the house we hoped for. Much credit to Jude Dallaire, architect extraordinaire, who helped us make many good choices and also managed to turn our description of what we would love into a real live house that looks just like we hoped it would. Also, much credit to our builders, Cedar Mill Group and their subs, who are really doing a really high-quality job and staying right on target with their time projections without sacrificing craftsmanship. Also thanks too to Jeff's friends for helping build the deck. Okay, gushing aside. The walls are primed, the flooring is in - the tile choices are great (yes, we got small black and white tile, just not shiny) and the bamboo floors throughout our gorgeous. We are planning bedroom colors and accent walls and ....... lighting.

I thought lighting would be fun to pick out and buy. But, I forgot that I'm me. And I forgot the black crewneck sweater principal. You'd think I'd have learned by now, wouldn't you? What I'm really looking for is a track light that is perfect. Meaning perfect to me. And I want it to come in 2, 4, 6 and 8 feet - same style, and I want spots I can put on it at the intervals I want. I want the ones downstairs to match and look good everywhere we want a straight track. I kind of want a mix and match track salad bar. I want to pick the base I want, combine it with the track I want, and then add the pendants and spots I want. I'll figure it out, but its irritating. Ikea has some lights we all really like. And some that I like and I'm not sure Jeff will like, until, of course, I persuade him that I'm right. Unless he pulls a "white platform bed" on me. Sounds racier than it is. That is the name I'm giving the new phenomenon of me picking something out and liking it and showing it to Jeff and telling him where I want to put it and he likes it too. Then when I show it to him again, he looks at me like he's never seen it before and now he suddenly doesn't think he likes it. Like what just happened with the white platform bed. Now, I know I don't seem like a white platform bed kind of girl, but I'm thinking shades of gray in the bedroom with crisp white accents, including the bed. I think the trick may be to only show him things once. I won't be reintroducing the Lichtensteins on the bathroom wall until they're in the house, methinks. None of it is worth arguing about now anyway, as we will be living in boxes and sleeping bags until the insurance company decides to maybe fork over the money we need to buy furniture.

So, lighting is being purchased this week. And we seem to have largely resolved the great light switch debaucle of '11 (don't ask). And our slanty wall is fantastic. The kitchen is being delivered tomorrow. We picked a washer dryer that makes me actually want to do laundry. And if I never have to deal with purchasing a bathroom vanity or countertop again, it will be too soon, but really? We are so excited. I can't believe that we are moving in less than two months. I'm so ready for this whole year and this whole process to just be over. I think we all are.

If it looks like a house, and walks like a house, and quacks like a house...

It's starting to really look like a house. So, framing happened, and then they put up green stuff on the sides. Then they put a second floor, laid out the first floor partitions, then roof framing, and they put stuff on the roof because the actual roof is going on next week, and all of a sudden, it looks like a real house. One that we could actually live in one day soon. But here's what's weird. We've been waiting for this for a long time, and its been a long year in a lot of ways (its actually only been nine months since the fire, but even if it was a year it would've been a long year). And all of a sudden there's this house and its really happening and now I realize just how much we have to do to get ready. I really don't want to move anything that we don't really love or really want to live with for a long time, so there's a lot of culling to do. We have tried hard not to collect a ton of junk this year, but I can't say we didn't adopt the occasional happy meal toy along the way. We have to buy furniture, to start, which is awesome but oh my god a houseful of furniture is a whole lot of furniture. And we have to pick everything, and, well, tile for example.

In my family we call this the "black crewneck sweater" syndrome. It stems from my mother trying to buy a black wool crewneck sweater when I was a kid. Plain black. And we looked everywhere from thrift stores to Bloomingdale's, and of course the internet was not there to access with everything in the world. And we concluded that the simpler the object of your search is, the harder it is to find. So tile. All I really want is simple shiny ceramic tile, no bigger than 4x4, on the bathroom floors. I would love to have some great color tile on the floors but apparently I would have to sell one of my kids to do that, and I am fond of all of them, so that's not an option. So, I would be happy with plain white, or white and black. Plain white tile in 2x2 or 4x4 for less than a million dollars per bathroom. I might as well be looking for it at Bloomingdale's. And I know I'll find it eventually or something that I can both like and pay for. But seriously? I know floors are supposed to look good, but they are FLOORS. You put them down between dirt and your feet. Just how nice do they have to be? How much do you want to really pay for the stuff that goes between dirt and feet? And if your answer is "a lot" - maybe you should rethink the value of floors in your life compared to other things you could do with that money. But I digress. The other thing about tile? There is apparently a secret tile language you have to speak to communicate with people who sell tile, because when you say "I want 2x2 or 4x4 shiny white ceramic tile for less than a million dollars" they look at you like you are saying "I would like to stretch the skin of your entire extended family out, tattoo it, then install it on our subflooring." They all look at me like I am insane. One woman showed me some 12/12 matte white tile and said that was all they had for floors. And I said I would like something smaller. And she said "no one uses anything smaller than this on their floors anymore so no one even sells it and you can't buy it." Really? No one? Ever? Anywhere? And I explained that while there was nothing inherently wrong with big tile, it just doesn't happen to be what I want on my floor. Then she looked at me like I said "I damn you and all of your big tile to the deepest pits of hell." And so I said to her "Am I crazy? Am I the only person in the world who doesn't want big tile?" And she actually kind of looked away and raised her eyebrows and shrugged - like I REALLY AM CRAZY. And Jeff is cracking up because this salesgirl has just called me crazy, so he is no help at all. And all the other tile salespeople are completely Now of course most normal people would just live with the big tile, or rob a bank and buy the tile they want. Not me. I am now determined to win the war the world is waging with me over tile. Just wait, when you all come and use my bathrooms, you will be standing on the spoils of war.

So, now that I've written at least a thousand words, the pictures above are from yesterday. Except for the picture of Judah. That's a couple of weeks old and he's standing in the frame of what's going to be our ginormous gorgeous window.

Slab Pour Video

Not Too Slabby

The slab got poured today. For those of you not as intimately familiar with construction lingo as I am, that means we have a concrete basement floor. A really thick one. I went and watched the cement mixer (my favorite construction machine!) turn and pour the cement down the shoot, into a thing that looks like a big cloth frosting funnel thing (can't remember what it's called - froster? cake icer?) drop a bunch of cement into what will eventually be our basement. I think its good that I went to see it. Its possibly the last time I'll voluntarily look at my basement for a full five minutes.

So here's something interesting, but possibly not news to anyone who knows me. I have no sense of direction, as anyone who's ever had to give me directions, get directions from me, drive with me, or tell me which room is the bathroom, already knows. But, even I didn't know how bad it was. Quite literally, I have been ENTIRELY LOST in my own basement for the last six years. At yesterday's "building meeting" I couldn't figure out what anyone was talking about when Jeff was talking to Dave (in charge of our building) about the basement. That's because for the last six years, I've been completely turned around. When I went down the stairs and got stuff out of our chest freezer (forcing me to regularly step about 3 feet into the basement), I knew that the stairs were in the house and not the barn, but I'd been picturing myself and the other things in the room in the barn. So, I thought my oil tank, for example, was in the back left corner of the barn basement, if you're facing the house. Actually, it was in the front right corner of the house basement if you're facing the house. In other words, 180 degrees from where I thought it was this whole time, no to mention in a totally different building, maybe fifty or more feet away.

To sum up, I get lost walking down a flight of stairs - my own stairs, in my own house. One day I'll tell you all the story of how the John McCain basement (the third basement in the house that will be entirely eliminated in this project) got its name. Just don't ask me to tell you where it was actually located.

I can't seem to get the slab pour video to upload. I'll try again tomorrow.

Shopping

We went window shopping for doors today. Get it? WINDOW shopping...for DOORs. Building humor.



Isn't this pretty? Pricey, but pretty.

We realized today that as much as we want to go shop, we really don't know what we're looking for. Insulated? Prehung? Preprimed? Painted? 32"? 36"? Do we need screens/storms? I am seriously underprepared for this process.

After seeing the pretty french doors/patio doors, we are thinking of one more change, but not sure if it will work or not. Have to look at the plans again. I'll be glad when they get things framed and my brain can stop trying to improve things and move on.

Don't get too excited, but I think we picked out our future washer/dryer. I know, doors and washing machines is more excitement than two people should be allowed in a day. Well, five people. We had part of the team with us:

Just trying to hang in.

Getting this house built, battling with the insurance company, trying to educate ourselves about the process of building and buying enough so that we feel comfortable with our choices, trying to figure out financing, trying to sort out rental details, and did I mention battling with the insurance company?

This is as stressful as having the house burn down in the first place. The difference is that I'm not in shock, not numb, not so overwhelmed that I can shut down. Just so overwhelmed that I can't shut down.

The thing about insurance companies? They like to act like this is some kind of a negotiation. Its not. We paid for a product, and now its time to deliver, and they are all "WHA????" I mean, if you went to a car dealership and said, "Hey, I'd like to purchase a car." And they say, "If you give us $30,000, we will give you this lovely 2011 model." And you say "Okay, here is my $30,000." And you pay them. And when you go the next week and ask for the car that you purchased, and that they promised to deliver, they say: "For your $30,000, we would like to give you a used 2005 model." And they actually think that you will take it just to be able to drive off the lot, and if you actually want the car you bought, you are expected to fight with them, and pay an adjuster, and wait and wait and wait and wait, to finally get the 2011 model you actually have already paid for. It is a seriously jacked up system.

Hole

Holes, actually. Two of them. I think I've seen more of our (former) basement in the last two days than I did in five years of living in the house. The risk in going into the basement is that I could see a snake, and then we'd have to move. Probably out of state. I prefer to live upstairs, safe in the knowledge that no snake has ever crossed the threshold.

So, here is the former foundation. It was supposed to be our future foundation too, but apparently it is too lame. So we will have a pretty new foundation, which will, unfortunately, cost twice as much as sprucing up the old one (Boo). But Jeff will have a fresh concrete Manland in our new house. I will be happy to know that while I am enjoying my fabulous new house, the basement I never go into will be prettier. It will also have the fringe benefit of holding up the house way better than the old one.

But, more exciting than all this foundation talk??? Check out the pictures of the pull-chain toilet uncovered in the basement demo and clear-out. First time I ever saw it. Awesome. The secrets of old houses, eh? I can live without the secrets this toilet may have held, though. Finding this in the wall (actually behind an old weird door I never opened)? Even better than if we'd found old stock certificates behind the walls. Seriously.