This Project Wil Have to Wait.

The 1st floor bathroom is turning into an awesome project, the best part being I get to rip out this nasty and out-of-place shower (the big white thing in the middle of the picture with the copper plumbing is the shower head). But there is no water cut-off for the shower itself - it is tied into the main water line. I would have to turn off the water to the whole house to cap the shower plumbing without flooding the first floor.

Not such a big deal?

The plumber suggested I not touch the cut-off valve. It is "as old as the house itself" and it would probably crumble in my hand like a cookie. And so we'll wait.

When this bathroom is finally ripped out I will be able to reveal to all the new design. The interior decorating firm I hired, Carrie and Corey Gray and Associates has something stunning planned.

You will drool.

Coal Hole.

Attached to the side of our house along the drive way is our coal hole. Back in the day, the coal delivery boys would don their top hats and shovel coal for the furnace directly through it to the basement. But that was the late 1990's and we have moved on.

Because it is like a big open window to the outside, you would suspect this had been locked and insulated long ago, wouldn't you?

Wouldn't you?

Would you expect our house to have a cistern as well? How about a cistern that hasn't been decommissioned and continues to sit with fetid water at the corner of our house in the back yard?

Full of awesome.

Treasure!

Just out of range of this picture of bedroom # 5 is a wicked cool surprise. Let's play multiple choice.

The surprise is:
A) Pirate Gold.
B) Severed Human Hand.
C) Mr. Freckles, Cat Lady's missing tabby.
D) Secret Room.

Unfortunately for all, the answer is merely D) Secret Room.

From the inside it looks like bedroom #5 is just small. But I got crazy and angle-grinded a hole in a wall I felt shouldn't be there (to the left of this picture) to see what was on the other side of the plaster and lath.

Et voila! Another 400 sq. feet of space! It looks like the original builders back in 1912 either got bored, ran out of wood for the floor, or needed a place to seal off the bodies of their enemies. And here we are today.

If I tear down this wall and clear out the old shredded-paper insulation they spread across the floor joists, not only will I 400 extra square feet of space on the 3rd floor once i put down new subfloor, I will also have easy access to the ceiling of bedroom #1 for electrical installation!

#$&%ing Nails.

The stairs were covered in carpet at some time in the past. Whoever took off the carpet missed quite a few nails. Every time I hit one, the sandpaper I am using is ripped to shreds and I have to reload the orbital sander one more time. The belt sander takes a bit more abuse. Other than these frequent and steely blocks to progress, the stairs are coming along nicely. I'll have pictures in a few days.

Behold!

Our air vents.

Carrie Uncovered A New Smell!

This is the dining room where Cat Lady kept the two hulk dogs. The foundation sank fifty years ago, giving it a slight slope at the middle of the room pouring out toward the French doors you see in the picture above. We'll talk about the foundation contractors after they have visited next week.

Who would have guessed this room would be the smelliest of them all?
It didn't smell so bad at first. Carrie was nice enough to mop it before I tore the tile up with a hammer and crow bar.

Then it started smelling.

And it smelled some more.

It looks beautiful in the picture above, but it smelled like a 400 square foot wet dog. Why, you ask? We realized that when the dogs wee'd in this indoor bathroom it all rolled down the sloping floor to the area nearest the door. Here it sank beneath the tile and festered. It is difficult to see, but there are actually white and salty urine stains marking the outline of the tiles at the far end of the room. Glorious.

High Fashion

Crazy Cat House of World Bank meeting?

Hammer and the First Nail

You have to start somewhere.

First nail removed. Down hill from here.

More Treasure!

After the trash was bagged, the dust broomed, and the movers gone, I found one solitary plastic bag hanging in the corner of the garage.

Filled with Barbie Dolls.

Creepy.

U-Haul of Trash

You read that right. After cleaning the house our intrepid moving men had filled an entire U-Haul with trash. And that didn't count the old washer, dryer, refrigerator, oven, or dishwasher, which were instead moved to the garage.

All of them agreed that they had never seen anything like it. In the closing minutes of the day, they finished cleaning refuse from the basement and garage with snow shovels.

Crawl Space Beer Party

Now that the basement has been cleaned out I can get to the crawl spaces beneath the living room and dining room. Predictably, they are filled with 100 years of junk. But it also looks like this is where granddad had his beers outside of grandma's scrutiny.

Get drunk by the water heater, toss the empty can beneath the living room.

I now have a retro beer can collection.

Rawr!

How could she leave this behind?

Alien Life Form

Packing the Garage

The house is packed. Only the garage is left.

Treasure!

The fireplace repairman was here today to sweep the chimney and tell me that it would never again be operable. Then he got my attention:

"You need to remove that incinerator in the basement," he said.

"But I don't have an incinerator in the basement," I replied.

"It's in the middle of your basement," he shot back.

"I haven't seen the middle of my basement," I told him, receiving a stunned look.

It appears that after the movers cleared out one basement room completely (not even trash was left for some reason), remaining in the middle of the room was an incinerator for burning refuse. It is still connected to the chimney with what appears to be new aluminum piping (did Cat Lady actually use this?!).

Suggestions on what to use it for are gladly accepted. Carrie says pizza oven.

I am thinking barbque smoker.

Trashy Fridays

The official move-out is complete, all that remains in the house is Cat Lady's trash. She hired three of the movers from the previous week to come back and do their worst. They are awesome and tireless and I would not want their job.

In some places above ground the varied trash is ankle deep. In some parts of the basement it reaches waste level (I couldn't get a good picture of the worst).

Outside, some statues continue to be found. A bear peeking out of the vines, Bambi's cousin is laying on his side in the backyard among a decade of un-scooped big dog poop. Old patio furniture is rotten and rusted.

The garage holds the biggest surprise. As I walk in I hear one cleaner say, "Oh boy. I just uncovered a bad smell. Guys, this smells really bad over here. Something is wrong." I have no idea what they came up with. He had me at "Oh boy," and I left for the house. No pictures.

Flock to your doom.

The big push on Thursday has revealed new gems of our palace.

Garden sculptures, cement, plastic, and plaster, are slowly congregating in the driveway to board the moving truck for the trip to oblivion.

Did I say 'oblivion'? I meant dark storage unit where they will decay until some poor sap buys them wholesale at a blind auction after Cat Lady forgets to pay the retainer.

Movin on out . . . Too the east siiiide . . .

Not only did Cat Lady not move out by Monday at 5:00 PM, she wasn't done moving out by Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, or Friday, either.

Believe it.

She had two moving teams (five movers each with their own trucks) working 8 to 5 every day from last Friday, January 29 to Thursday, Feb 4. These guys looked exhausted and the house moved like a clown car, with newly-packed boxes exiting each room and endlessly being maneuvered down the stairs and out to the trucks.

But who cares! She is moving and we won't have to evict!

Herding Cats

I ran by the house this morning. It is February 1, 2010, the day we take legal possession. We exchange keys tonight at 5 PM. I was going to run up to the front windows and see how the family room and library look like emptied of her Barbie collection.

But two red moving trucks were blocking my way. She is still not moved out.

Carrie points out that if they are still moving her out there is little chance she will sweep, mop, disinfect the house, but we agree it would make little difference. The only way to get the smell out is to repaint every wall and refinish all of the floors, so who cares if it is a little dusty.

It would be nice if she at least wipes the mold out of the refrigerator (or throws it away herself so that we don't have to).