128. Perfectionism, Part 3: the struggle

February 12, 2015August 30, 2015 / Apple Hill Cottage / 12 Comments

Yes, (sigh) perfectionism has been addressed here before. Twice. Part 1 and Part 2.

The tension between
perfectionism the blessing
and perfectionism the curse
hasn’t been perfected.
Hence, the struggle.
With Imperfectionism.

Let me introduce you to the two characters in this drama —
Mr. H.C. Dunright and Mrs. AHC Doquickly.
Was the tension
and dissension
when one strives for perfection
mentioned?

Things need to move quickly because there is now a CLOSING scheduled on the City House.
Hooray and Hip Hooray.
Thumbs up!
Prayers answered,
and a sale in the middle of January, yet!
And now,
they have only until the end of February to GET THINGS DONE.
Dunright, that is.

Because in March, there is a move scheduled on the calendar.

Mrs. Doquickly hasn’t yet waxed poetic over this end to the three year saga
of renovating a little cottage in rural Pennsylvania.

That might be because
the charming little cottage
isn’t quite renovated.
Yet.
Not everything is Dunright.
Yet.

However, Mr. Dunright and Mrs. Doquickly are both working feverishly
to get as much accomplished as possible for two more weeks.
And then there will be pictures.

In the meantime, they are looking for that perfect middle ground
between Dunright and Doquickly.

That perfect middle ground where the uneven floors look level
and the crooked walls look plumb.
Is it level?

126. Mudroom Redo Redux Redoux

January 16, 2015August 30, 2015 / Apple Hill Cottage / 13 Comments

I’ve written about the mudroom before. Several times.

The mudroom has issues. Several issues.

Each time we’ve thought to tackle it, one of those issues has stopped us dead.

The floor for instance: Made of two concrete slabs, there’s not much of a foundation (if any). Just see the huge crack down the center. The sinking of the floor made it very un-level — a four inch difference from one side to the other!

The ceiling for instance: It leaks. Despite spot fixing and new insulation, the ceiling still leaks by the chimney. Mr. H.C. thinks it is the flashing, but the probable truth is

It needs a new roof.

But we aren’t ready to put on a new roof until we decide some serious architectural issues.

The chimney for instance: It is old and ugly and needs relining. $$$. We had a company come to give us an estimate — $3000 for just the chimney liner, not counting the stove pipe needed to hook up the wood stove.

The walls for instance: There is a floor-to-ceiling electric panel/wiring mess on the kitchen side wall. Not only is it inconvenient to have by the chimney, it is UGLY. And there’s no moving the panel box. (Hiding wires is hard!) The rest of the walls are a mismatched amalgam of siding, cement block, and plywood.

The whole room for instance: It is the main entrance to the cottage and the door opens into the prevailing winds. Many times the wind just grabs the door from your hands. Did I mention we live on a ridge? It is called Apple Hill, after all. Consequently the whole room is cold; and since it goes directly into our beautiful new kitchen (where we hang out a lot!) it makes the kitchen cold too.

So what’s a pair of rehabbers to do?

Put it off!
Right.
We did that.
Twice.

Mr. H.C. was just itching to get the wood stove hooked up into that chimney, but the contractor guy in him couldn’t bear to pay someone else big bucks for something he thought he could do. So we ordered chimney liners online from Woodland Direct for less than half the price and did it ourselves. (Well, Mr. H.C. did it himself, and I just helped guide the stove pipe into the new liner.) And once that old stove got hooked up and we could feel how warm that room was with wonderful wood heat, there was no stopping at the issues.
Mr. H.C. leveling the mudroom floor We had planned to put down concrete over concrete to level the floor and then some concrete board over the concrete to keep any cracks from showing up in a couple of years. But the cement board idea didn’t work, so we just laid a new layer of concrete. The laying/grouting/sealing of the tile did not go smoothly; I won’t go into details, but it certainly looks beautiful to us. (Did I mention we chose to do this project during the coldest week of the winter?)

mudroom wall One wall is finished with an old pine hutch top that has been repainted and repurposed into a mudroom staple — shelves and hooks for jackets. I painted it Blooming Grove green to bring the kitchen color out into the adjoining mudroom. The walls behind the wood stove are now covered in metal studs and Hardiebacker board (fire-resistant for the walls next to the wood stove) and some sort of tile will go over it. Soapstone is the material of choice, but $$$ matter. We’ve gone shopping at the big box stores and found nothing of interest, and we’ve had a long dry spell at our favorite Restores.

We have a long way to go still, but we’ve come a long way for a room that had such issues. And I have to show you one more photo series — a shot of the kitchen floor we took up, and why we chose this particular pattern for the mudroom floor.

After

Old kitchen floor

When I wrote the very first post for Apple Hill Cottage, I talked about trying to respectfully honor those who lived in it before, as well as making it our own.

I think Joe and Clara would approve.

113. If it’s Worth Doing; or, A Treatise on fixing other people’s mistakes

August 14, 2014August 30, 2015 / Apple Hill Cottage / 18 Comments

The DIY era is generally considered a good thing, right? In this age of instant how-to information, anyone can do anything.

And lately I’ve been wondering if that is a good thing.

I’ve had lots of time to think on this. In fixing up two old houses, Mr. H. C. and I have also been fixing other peoples mistakes. And all the time I’m thinking, ‘If you couldn’t do it right, you should have called a professional!’

The running joke at the cottage is that it was wired by Joe’s Electric. And we laugh and say its a good thing Joe was Mr. H. C.’s dad, otherwise he would come in for a lot of criticism.

Here at the city house we aren’t related to the painting crew that was here before we bought the house; consequently, the former owner has definitely been criticized. Several times. The painting crew must have been made up of ten year olds — nothing against ten year olds — and much of the other work done on the house was slipshod as well. But since I’m doing the painting, that’s what I’m noticing.

Whoever painted the basement took a giant brush and five gallons of gray latex basement paint and slopped it over everything. Door knobs. Door hinges. Metal floor drains. Electrical outlets and the covers. The lock and chain on the door. Not to mention the concrete floor.

There are slops, drips, and globs everywhere. Bristles from the brush left in the dried paint. Corners of trim left unpainted because it was, well, hard. And suddenly, it is my issue. If I just paint over the mess, now I’ve become the sloppy painter that I’m criticizing. And frankly? I don’t want the next owner complaining about me and my workmanship.

Any DIY-er knows to take off door hardware when the door is painted. Don’t they?
Any DIY-er knows to never use latex paint on metal. Don’t they?
Any DIY-er knows not to use oil-based paint on top of something already painted in latex. Don’t they?
Any DIY-er knows to take stray bristles out of the wet paint before it dries. Don’t they?

This is what worries me. What if the DIY trend is just acceptable mediocrity under the guise of pride in accomplishment?

I’m a DIY-er from way back — I helped build my first house starting in 1978, before the first Home Depot even opened its doors — so I’m including myself in this. In the interest of saving money, or pride in accomplishment, or whatever else drives us to do it ourselves, are we accepting a lesser quality than hiring someone who knows how to do it really well?

A few weeks back a blogger posted a photo of a coffee table she had painted. It looked lovely, though the photo was taken outside and there were shadows on the table. A professional furniture painter commented (very rudely) that regular people should not take on projects they can’t do.

Rudeness and Inappropriateness aside, I get what he meant. He is a professional who has honed his skill for many years and is trying to make money at it. And here come the amateurs saying Hey. We can do that! Let’s just buy some chalk paint. Or better yet, let’s make our own…

My chalk-painted chairs, $5 each from St. Vinnie’s, and painted with DIY chalk paint.

I’ve done it. In fact, I do it all the time. Why should I pay someone else money when I might be able to do it?

Do you think it might be part of our national character? After all, most all Americans came here from somewhere else because someone we’re related to thought they could do better themselves.

But I digress.

As a recovering perfectionist (and married to one who is not yet recovered) I suggest that if a thing is worth doing yourself, it’s worth doing well.

Mr. H. C. is a professional who has been called in many times to rescue homeowners who got in over their heads. And I think it’s great that they had the humility to admit they couldn’t do it. I wish the former owner of our city house had called in some professionals.

When Mr. H. C. considers doing something sub-standard, he usually says, “No, it’s against my morals to do that.” I ~~always~~ usually smile when he says that, because, really? That’s the way everyone should work all the time. No matter what you are being paid, no matter who you are doing the work for, no matter how much (or how little) time you have to do the project. It should be “against our morals” to do sub-standard or sloppy or careless work.

If not for yourself, at least for the people who come after you, who have to fix your mistakes…