Rest in peace, old kitty.
Inky (2006 – 2022)
Category Archives: Uncategorized
The Triangle of DOOM!
The gable roof end over our dining and kitchen area forms a triangular shape that we have named The Triangle of Doom. Mostly because it’s a pain in the ass to get up there and do anything, but also because it overlooks half the house and if anything is wrong with it, you can see it all the time.
Please observe the exposed plywood, framing and insulation up there. We’ve stared at that for over a year, since the day they knocked it out. Here’s a picture of that:
That was the view from my office, where I work, on September 9, 2020.
Really bringing the outdoors in, here. So, yeah, after staring at all the exposed framing and insulation for a year, we knew the time was coming that I had to get up there and do something about it. Drywallers wanted to just sheetrock over it but the nightmare of having drywall dust in every orifice of the house for six months was too much. We elected tongue and groove, pre-painted, so I wouldn’t have to go up there and paint it after install.
Sincerely, getting the Big Ladder inside was the worst of it. It’s stored outside under a tree (please note: 82% of our property is under a tree) so it’s covered in pitch and home to 812 spiders and weighs like 135 pounds so it’s a bitch to move around inside. But once it’s set, it’s nice and heavy and stable and can get me up there with planks and a mallet and a nail gun and sometimes a level though I quickly realized that if the boards were not level there was little I could do about it.
When it was finally done, we just about screamed. No more staring at crooked framing and dirty insulation. It was finished. Finished at last!
Sometimes when you live with something ugly long enough, you kind of stop seeing it because you stop looking at it. Our eyes just naturally averted their gaze towards that triangle. Now, it’s like we accidentally glace upwards and are pleasantly surprised.
The boards fit in better than expected, the trim goes well with it, we love the color, and I’m never going up there on that fricking ladder again.
Cabinet door: exploded view
Looks simple when all put together but a lot of work goes into these things.
So, how much garbage do you have in your crawlspace?
I guess that’s why they bring a big truck. I think it was mostly the old insulation, and at least 98% rat free.
The Shed On The Hill (part 2)
The Door Game
“Hooman, open the door so I can come in!”
Okay.
Yarr!
The Light at the End of the Tunnel May Not be a Train
I’m almost done. I’m so close that I’m giddy with excitement.
Demolition has been completed. The old paneling is fully abated.
Insulation has been exposed. Scratchy, itchy insulation. At this time, it’s 77% fiberglass and 23% cobwebs.
Beetles were discovered. Colorful, iridescent beetles, and they labyrinth of tunnels they ate through our framing. The beetles were killed, and their tunnels filled with caulk – not because it does any good, but because I felt like it.
Closet doors were assembled, and they definitely don’t look store-bought.
They fit perfectly. Which is really unusual for me.
Wood has been purchased, enough to finish all the trim in the house. There’s so much wood in my shop now I barely have space for it all.
Each board has been cut, marked and labeled. Some boards have been labeled more than once, as I mis-cut pieces and had to make corrections changed my mind about what I wanted to do with them.
The windowsills are assembled. I have a particular style of windowsill that I like, which seems to require a few hours of assembly for each one I do. I swear, I am the undisputed master of doing things the hard way.
And as usual, cats were no help.
The Stair Tread Conundrum
For some reason, some stupid, hair-brained, ill-conceived reason, I decided to use my existing stair treads instead of buying new ones. I could have bought nice, perfect, new stair treads But noooOOOooo. I had to use the crap that came with the house. It’s actually really good wood – old growth douglas fir, very tight grain, and it has a few knots and fissures but they are otherwise brick solid. A little twisted here and cupped there, but they’re old enough that they’re probably done moving. Something to be said for that.
Still, this is old, worn wood. It’s not like using old reclaimed barn-wood, nothing so romantic. These are more like some old pallet boards found beneath a dumpster behind an Arthur Treacher’s Fish and Chips. Seriously, I’ve seen driftwood on the beach in better shape than this crap.
To lend a little perspective, here’s a Before Picture:
There’s the stairs as we first saw them. Please note the ancient wood spindles, the bio-hazard carpet, the splintery old paneling, the wobbly handrail. I won’t tell you what it smelled like.
We’ve renovated a lot of the house since that time but for some reason I saved the stairs until last. Even though it’s a centerpiece of the house, even though we stare at it constantly, even though I climb up and down those god-awful things ten times a day. And I’ve had a lot of time to think of how I want the stairs done, which is why it’s such a mystery to me that I couldn’t come up with a better idea for stair treads.
I do like the wood grain on these. Lots of natural detail, and they polished up pretty well despite all the repairs I had to make to them. I had to do everything: wood putty, epoxy, dowels, wine bottle corks. Sadly, I had to sand a lot of the natural patina off of it, but there wasn’t much getting around that.
They did take the stain well. I have all next week to slather on polyurethane before I install them, so they should be well sealed.
I’ve dry-fit the posts and a few of the iron balusters in place and they’re looking great. It all looks so different. When these stairs are done, it’s going to be so nice that it looks out of place in this house.
The cut trim pieces look like serrated jaws. Just in time for Halloween!
Solutions for Every Closet!
The pictures on these magazines crack me up. You know, if my closet only had to store twelve items or less, it might look so picturesque too. Yeah, all I need to store is a pair of antique tennis rackets, a cyan volleyball, the world’s cleanest baseball, and a basket that has no use and serves no purpose.
Sorry, but my closet is not a shallow set of cubbyholes designed to hold yellow galoshes in singles. Mine is more like the Black Hole of Calcutta. The area behind where those coats are hanging? Astronomers call that the Event Horizon; beyond that point, nothing can escape, not even light.
The bare bulb is actuated by a pull string so worn and frayed that it quietly sobs “kill me” whenever you grasp it. No effort has been made to conceal those exposed wires, or insulate them, or even bring them up to code. There is no code in the Closet of Doom, only a deep, eternal blackness that smells like dog pee and cigarette smoke.
The pitted backside of the paneling is what rubs up against whatever clothes you deem fit to hide in here. You don’t store things in this oubliette as much as you just forget about them.
Definitely a tripping hazard.
Reluctantly, daylight creeps through the various cracks and holes from the outside, but the deeper down it goes, the darker it gets. The unwritten horror stories of HP Lovecraft are down there somewhere. I should seal it off for the safety of us all.
I’ve been staring at these awful stairs for years now, and the time has finally come for a little remodeling. Out with the paneling, in with new drywall. This is going to be a lot of work in a small tight space and it may not turn out like the front cover of anyone’s magazine, but anything will be an improvement.