We’ve still got DIY in us
A few spots in the house needed some spiffying up before we release it onto the market, and they required Joey and I to revisit our DIY roots to patch up work we had originally done 6-7 years ago.
It felt weird to pull on my ratty home remodeling clothes that have been stashed away for years. It was strange to dig out the tools we needed – they felt like forgotten friends.
We fell right back into our old routines and duties. My tasks were to go over caulk I had first applied around windows and moulding years ago (it was starting to shrink and pull away) and to clean out a small portion of our basement that was still buried in remodeling rubble from our kitchen remodel, which we did while I was pregnant with Adeline…3.5 years ago. It’s been on our To Do list since then, but babies tend to delay To Dos. Joey was in charge of hanging drywall in the basement to spruce it up a little, making the Hey! It’s a Dungeon! section look a wee tad less scary.
These are my caulking pants. I know, it’s ridiculous that I have pants especially for caulking, but I lived in these suckers for a few weeks and every tan and white blob on them comes from caulk. I have to admit, I was giddy to find that they still fit me, two babies later. I hope you’ll take a moment to read this post so you can fully understand my relationship with these pants. Yes, I said relationship.
Then I got my trusty caulk gun and loaded it up, all the while reminiscing over the time we spent together so many years ago.
By the way, if you would like a caulk tutorial, I posted one here at the height of my caulking career.
And I got to work. It took a few tries to remember how to do it, but I got it. Here’s a before and after so you can see what I’m talking about. I was running a new bead of caulk in gaps that had formed (from the old caulk withering up) between ceiling moulding and our ceiling.
Then I headed down to the basement to revisit another form of work I used to be intimately acquainted with – cleaning up remodeling ruble, like chunks of plaster, pieces of lath and scraps of insulation. The spot I was working in was tucked under the basement stairwell, and I never dared enter it cause it was obviously Spider Nirvana – dark, dirty, cobwebby and never ever disturbed by humans. I had spent the last 3.5 years waiting for Joey to climb in there and clean it out, but…it’s close quarters under there and Joey claims he can’t fit, let alone “clean” in there. It’s not the first time he’s used that excuse, forcing me to squeeze into other spider kingdoms in our house (here and here).
So, I put on my spider protection gear (aka a hat and hooded sweatshirt), as well as a mask to limit the amount of lead-paint infused plaster wall dust I’d be inhaling. This is what I used to look like on most Saturday nights.
See the steps behind me? That’s the spot I cleaned (underneath them), and when this picture was taken I had just crawled out from behind them after filling 2 garbage bags with ancient remodeling refuse.
Then it was Joey’s turn. He lugged sheets of drywall from our attic (it’s a long story for another post, but our attic has been home to 40 sheets of drywall since 2007) into the basement. Now here’s the funny thing about that new wall Joey put up. There used to be a wall there. A cool wooden on. But we tore it down cause “We are, like, so totally going to open up this basement and fix it all up so it’s awesome” said Joey and Liz, the novice home remodelers that had no idea what it takes to actually fix up a basement, and therefore it still looks like a shit hole.
And ya know what? When our tasks were completed, we both agreed that it felt really good to be doing this kind of work again. We had spent years living like this, our weekends and evenings filled with tools, dirt, beers, laughter and tears as we busted our asses to fix our house. It was hell, but the kind that’s really rewarding and sometimes even fun. It had a huge impacted on me and my marriage, bettering both.
Only this time, we had two little helpers to keep an eye on while we took turns working and watching them.
See how when it was my turn to watch them I put them to work? Sweep, Crosby! Sweep!
And now Joey wears pink barrettes in his hair when he uses his table saw, compliments of his daughter who wanted to make sure his hair stayed out of his eyes while he cut with “that really loud scissors.”
As we start looking for our new home we often discuss buying another fixer upper and if it would be possible to remodel a house (with loads of hired help this time) and raise kids without anyone loosing their minds or suffering a horrible injury. The jury is still out on that one. But we do already have all the tools and some of the know-how…