Woo-woo-woo?

There are all kinds of things around here that don’t get cleaned regularly or at all, and from time to time I suffer some some inconvenience or embarrassment as a result of that negligence, but this week I learned of something we should be cleaning that I will confess has never, ever crossed even a remote corner of my mind.

It seems that the pilot on our propane water heater went out at some point, and we became suddenly and rudely aware of that situation when the three of us who shower in the second floor bathrooms  faced the equivalent of a mountain stream in snow melt season on Sunday morning.  Forewarned that I’d be showering in ice water, I ran straight from my walking routine to the shower, and being so very terribly hot and sweaty, the cold water wasn’t too bad.  Except on certain more sensitive portions on my real estate.

Anyway, we couldn’t get the pilot to light, so the propane guy came to our rescue Tuesday morning, and guess why the pilot (most likely) went out in the first place?  It was because on the very bottom of the water heater are a bunch of hair-sized slits through which the flame draws the air it needs to keep burning.  But since our water heater is located in a gravel cellar, there’s a lot of dust down there.  Well, actually there’s a lot of dust down there because there’s a lot of JUNK down there and we NEVER clean the cellar, but the propane guy was too nice to say that, so he attributed the excessive dust to the gravel floor.  Anyway, the dust had clogged the very slim air intake slits, which caused the flame to go woo-woo-woo, instead of the much-to-be-preferred constant woosh, and as a result, the pilot blew itself out.

Following the propane guy’s excellent example, I have now been instructed to periodically reach under the water heater (while it’s burning!) with a toilet brush or bottle brush, and clean out those vents by rubbing the appliance’s bottom vigorously, while listening for the throbbing sound of the flame to turn to a steady hiss.  Someone add that to my mile-long checklist please.

So here’s my question for curious home owners:  Does YOUR water heater say woo-woo-woo?

With apologies to my handyman

Dear Scott,

I did it.  It’s all MY fault.  It’s not Josiah’s fault, because he only tried to fix what I asked him to fix.

In flinging out the clean sheets to put on our bed, I inadvertently bumped the ceiling light fixture, and one of the three little chains popped, leaving the fixture dangling at a rakish angle.

Shocked and slightly embarrassed, I called for Josiah to come rescue the light, and he did.  With me holding the glass shade up high (no small feat for a height challenged wife), he reconnected the broken chain, and all was well.

That is, until I looked up at the light from a different angle and saw a hole in the ceiling.  It looked like the metal base of the light had been bumped off-center, so that it was no longer fully covering the hole. I perceived the hole to be unsightly and inappropriate.

P:  “Hey, Jo!  There’s a HOLE in the ceiling!”

Jo:  “Uh. . . yeah.  Hasn’t it always been there?”

P:  “I don’t think so.  I’ve never seen it before.  Maybe when I bumped the light it shoved the fixture off-center or something.”

Jo:  (analyzing the situation) “Well, I think it was there before, but I see what you mean.”

P:  “You know, I’ve been looking at this light for twelve-and-a-half years, and I’ve never seen a hole like that before.”

So, Josiah very gently tried to shove the fixture a bit to one side, so as to cover the hole.  We both assumed it would slide over, but when he did this (which he only did because I found the hole to be un-aesthetically pleasing), something up in the ceiling broke, which left the whole fixture dangling precariously.  This was clearly not a good thing.  We both felt quite bad, but I think I felt worse, because, as earlier stated, it was ALL MY fault.  We both studied the dangling fixture for a moment.

P:  “What do we do now?”

Jo:  “Take it all down and re-drill the holes to re-mount it in that sheetrock.”

P:  “Hmmm…  Dad is NOT going to be happy about this.”

Jo:  “No, he’s not.”

P:  “Well, do you think it will hang there all right till Dad gets home?”

Jo:  “Ummm. . . maybe.”  (and then, looking at it more closely) “You know, maybe we should just take this (glass shade) off, because it’s so heavy.  It might fall.”

P:  “Yes, but it’d be on Dad’s side of the bed and would only hit his feet.”  (and then, abandoning humor for reality)  “Well, I guess you’re right.  Boy, Dad is NOT going to like this, but I promise you, you won’t get blamed.  I’ll make sure he understands that it’s all my fault.”

So I held the shade again while Josiah carefully unhooked the little chains.  And now we have a naked bulb hanging out of a hole in our bedroom ceiling.

Just for fun, he decided that since the shade was down anyway, he SHOULD spin it like a top on the bedroom floor, which he did, and I must admit that it was slightly impressive.

I will clean the shade.  I am VERY sorry to cause you this inconvenience.  It was my fault, not Josiah’s.  Laura may have broken the plate, but I bumped the light.

P:  “You know, this light fixture is really pretty and probably an antique, but it has always been a real pain.  Since the hole’s all exposed now anyway, maybe we should just get a whole new light fixture.”

Jo:  (laughing)  “You’ve got to be kidding, Mom!  After the bathroom?!?!?  NO WAY!”

P:  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.  It could end up being a $6K light fixture.”

Sincerely,

Wife of Youth

Keeping your baseboards clean

My mom was a big fan of clean baseboards when I was a kid, and I definitely respect and appreciate Mom.  However, I am personally able to leave a dusty baseboard untouched for quite a few months years, and I have obviously passed on this trait to a percentage of our offspring.

We are expecting to lodge an undefined number of AIM folks here for a leadership camp this weekend, and at least some of them will probably be sleeping in Katie’s now-vacant room.  Hence, this afternoon, Jessica and I went up there to survey the scene and do any necessary damage control following Katie’s recent spring break.

Now, I had asked Katie to leave her room in decent shape, and to her credit, she truly did.  In fact, the only things that really needed to be done were changing the sheets, dusting a few surfaces, and vacuuming.  However, before I began vacuuming, I decided it would be prudent to take a broom to the carpet edges, sweeping out violently beating out the several months’ years’ worth of accumulated dust and junk, so the vacuum could suck it up.

Once I got started sweeping out the edges, I wanted to finish (not that I’m compulsive or anything. . .)  Jessica graciously pulled Katie’s nightstand out from the wall so I could attack the carpet beneath and behind it, and what did she find, but – SHOCK AND AWE – a check for $96.66, made out to Katie and dated July 1, 2008! Jessica called Katie, who was quite pleased to know that she now has almost $100 more than she thought she had.

Moral of the Story:  Listen to your mother; there is wisdom in keeping your baseboards clean.

If a clean playroom really is a happy playroom,

then our playroom must be downright jovial.  We returned last night from a trip to visit my parents in Arkansas, and Jessica and I were both in the mood to GET SOMETHING CLEANED.  She decided we should tackle the playroom, and we fairly body slammed it.

Not only did we go all the way around as we usually do – working counter-clockwise from the door, but (ducking and whispering) we actually cleared off the wicker shelf.  This is a significant undertaking.  In an earlier life, the wicker shelf stood in the corner of the dining room.  The top shelf was designated for Dad, the next shelf for Mom, the next shelf for science-y stuff, and the bottom shelf for the kids.  I think.  It’s been a while – probably back when we only had three kids.  We did clean off the lower three-fourths of the wicker shelf periodically, but we never could attack Dad’s shelf, because we never knew what of his could be thrown out and what could not.

A few years ago, the wicker shelf wobbled and waddled and relocated itself into the playroom.  Nowadays, no one puts anything much on it, and the same stuff that graced its surfaces years ago is probably still there.  In general, when Jessica and I clean the playroom, we just work our way around to the wicker shelf, pause for a moment of solemn reflection, and go on past it in a cloud of dust and hearty “High Ho, Playroom!”

Yesterday, we actually touched the thing and discussed what would happen if we were to clear it off. We looked at each other, realized Dad wasn’t home and couldn’t comment, and went at it like two wild women.

It ended up being kind of fun; pulling out things like two compasses, some drywall anchors, part of an armadillo’s shell, one piece from Risk, some porcupine quills, two partial snakeskins, miscellaneous Legos, pushpins, two eye bolts, and a kit for studying tree rings – and trying to figuring out what to do with each item.  We eventually succeeded in emptying all the bottom shelves, and then The Great Question remained – what to do with the stuff on Dad’s shelf?

Fearing that it might bite, we approached the top shelf with caution, but it turned out that we were quite safe.  The most dangerous residents of that most sacred horizontal surface were three Bibles, two quiet time notebooks, and a varied assortment of CDs chronicling the early years of our ministry.  Scary CDs, I’m sure.  We did ditch a number of unidentifiable items and an fine assortment of instructions (how to install the gizmo that pulls the breezeway door shut, how to assemble a bookshelf that’s been assembled in the attic for seven years, etc.), then carried the valuables to Scott’s desk.

Actually, we are pretty sure our secret is safe.  Scott never reads this blog, and he will probably be pleasantly surprised to have relocated his Bibles, notebooks, and ministry CDs.  Yes, he will be pleasantly surprised, Jessica and I are very satisfied, and our playroom is happy once again.

Outhouses are looking better all the time

This evening, Scott came home, changed clothes, and called to me, “have you been in the attic bathroom lately?”  No, I had not.  In fact I am very thankful that for over a month, I have not had to use the attic bathroom AT ALL.  Instead, I have been blessed to be able to brush my teeth, shower, etc. in The Most Beautiful Bathroom in southwest Missouri.

I replied in the negative, and My Hero announced that we had a problem.  (Sigh)  I didn’t really want to hear about a problem, but he continued to explain that it seemed that the attic bathroom was dripping through the ceiling of The Most Beautiful Bathroom.  This was not an especially pleasant concept.

He climbed to the third floor and returned with the news that the tank of the attic toilet seemed to be leaking.  That maybe a seal was broken and needed to be replaced.  That it had probably been leaking for quite a while; long enough for the subfloor to become thoroughly saturated and then begin to drip.

He thinks it will be a relatively simple repair, and he hastened to inform me that he was NOT going to have that bathroom totally redone.  In fact, all he intends to do is get the leak fixed.  Sounds like a plan to me, but for some reason it also sounds vaguely familiar. . . as if we’ve had this conversation before. . .  He will not replace the soggy subfloor, because that flooring was already ruined shortly after it was installed, when we managed to flood the attic bathroom to a depth of more than an inch.

So, for right now, the attic bathroom toilet is strictly off limits, those utilizing the toilet in The Most Beautiful Bathroom are advised to carry an umbrella, and our goal is to have the problem fixed before Katie arrives for her spring break!

But the more I think about it, what our Ozarkian forebears gave up in the convenience of indoor plumbing, they must have more than gained in the simplicity of leakless living.

I took a shower today

IN OUR NEWLY REMODELED BATHROOM!!!

Overall, it was a nice shower; more so because I didn’t have to go up to the attic to take it.  That master bath concept is truly great.  There were a couple down sides – I wasn’t ready for how hard the water came out and inadvertently sprayed the back wall, which ran out onto the bathroom floor; and it’s quite dark in there, which makes shaving a little challenging – but I am pleased.

Now we are down to figuring out how to organize (or maybe simply toss) all our junk and deciding which color bathroom rug we want.  Decisions, decisions.

7/16″

At 9:00 AM today, the carpet installer called and said he could come do our job (Josiah’s room, Andrew’s room, our closet) about 6:00 PM tonight. This did throw us into overdrive.  Jessica and Josiah would be leaving at 11:00 AM and returning at 5:45 PM.  Scott was working in Springfield today.  Before the installers arrived, our closet would have to be emptied and its carpet pulled up and hauled out, all the furniture would need to be removed from Andrew’s room, and more sorting and discarding would have to happen in Josiah’s.  I had less than two hours of adolescent muscles available!

Jessica and Josiah working together managed to pull all the junk out of our closet (no small job!), remove and haul out the carpet and pad, and sweep the closet clean.  In under an hour.  Wow!  They also did a lot of the necessary decluttering of Josiah’s stuff, and I told them they could punt whatever academics they would have done this morning.

Andrew and I would sort and toss his stuff, move all his furniture out of his room, and get it swept.

I had a hair appointment today, also.  It was scheduled for noon, so I figured Andrew and I would leave at 11:45 AM for that.  At 10:40 AM, Andrew came to me and asked what time we’d be leaving for the hair cut.  I told him it was at noon, so we’d leave at 11:45.  He said my calendar said it was at 11:00 AM.  Surely not.  But yes, the calendar wouldn’t lie.  This was really lovely.  I had exercised but not yet showered, Jessica and Josiah were attempting to drag Josiah’s bed frame out onto the porch, and I needed to shower, get dressed, and leave in five minutes!

I managed to do it in nine.  I left with my hair sopping wet and wearing sandals, but we were only five minutes late.  Not too shabby, huh?

The afternoon was spent sorting Andrew’s massive cache of belongings into Put Away, Give Away, and Throw Away bags and then making every effort to move his furniture to Josiah’s room.  Some things are possible and some are not.  First we tried to move his dresser.  We slid it across his floor (scratching it, but who cares if you’re going to hide it under pad and carpet?) and out into the hall, but to get it on into Josiah’s room, we’d have to lift it over the tack strip in Josiah’s doorway, and we couldn’t do it.  With the dresser grounded thusly in the hall, there was no way to get Andrew’s bed out.

So. . . we moved the dresser back into Andrew’s room, and commenced with the bed.  We got the box spring off with much difficulty and dragged it into our room (which looks like a battle zone and had for five and a half weeks).  Next was the frame, and surely we could just lift it and carry it into Josiah’s room.  Their doorways are on opposite sides of the hall, but offset from each other by a few inches.  They are both at the end of the hall, where the attic stairs go up.

Now, I am not TOTALLY ignorant when it comes to the geometry and physics of furniture relocation.  Realizing that the hunking heavy wooden frame was obviously wider than the doorway, I thought we could stand it on its end and slide it through sideways.  It was a noble thought, but with seven foot ceilings, we almost took out Andrew’s ceiling light fixture trying to do that.   My next, equally noble  thought was to lay the frame on its side and angle the top through the door first.  This would have the frame heading down the hall and not into Josiah’s room, but surely we could wiggle it around to get it in there.  It would be something like backing out a of tight parking space – where you go forward to the right for eight inches, then back to the left for ten, then forward and right for another six and seventh-eighths inches, then back to the left for five, etc.

The problem with this maneuver was that no matter how hard we tried, we could NOT get the top end of the frame through the doorway.  It banged and wanged and got stuck and would not go through for love or money.  We chipped paint off a fine selection of door frames (not a problem as they were already quite chipped) but to no avail.  I called Jessica to see if she could tell me how on EARTH she and Josiah had gotten his bed frame out of his room.  (The two boys’ beds are identical and had been bunked in an earlier life.)  She gave the phone to Josiah, who carefully explained to me exactly how to do what I had already done; proof positive that I really am no dummy.  When I told him that his/my idea simply wouldn’t work given the configuration of door frames, etc., he said, “Then you’ll have to take the frame apart.”  I had already thought of this, too, and had, in fact, tried to knock the long side boards out to do that very thing.  Some bed frames have these two little flat metal pieces that wedge into little slots on the head and foot boards, and I kicked as hard as I could to loosen them, but all I got was some side-of-the-foot bruises.  It was my brainy 14-year-old son who informed me that the frame was bolted together.  I looked, and of course he was right.  Not only was it bolted, the bolts were deeply recessed into long holes.  Hmmm…

Josiah told me I would need to go out to the shop and find the socket set.  I had interrupted their mime practice, so he had to hang up.

Out to the shop I went, and I located the green plastic box that contained the socket set.  I had two fond hopes:  1) that there would be an extender in the set to reach down into those holes, and 2) that we would have the proper size of socket; sockets tending to be a lot like socks – getting lost for absolutely no reason.  It must’ve been clean living, because back at my desk, I found that there WAS an extender.  Yay!  Of course, the sockets were all out of order and there were several empty spaces (left by the sockets that went AWOL), but I was full of hope.

Socket sizes are engraved on the sides of the little beasts, but with neither my unaided eye, my reading lens, my computer lens, not my distance lens was I able to easily read those marks.  In fact, if  I thought I were ever going to use the sockets again, I’d probably be unable to resist the temptation to take a Sharpie marker to both the sockets and their little curved beds.  Bottom line:  all I could do was pick one that looked pretty and try it.  When size didn’t work, I sorted through the pile of metal to find one that appeared to be slightly smaller, etc.

On the third try, I hit the jackpot, and for the record, be it herewith noted that the screws on the boys’ bed frames require a 7/16″ socket.   With much grunting and predominantly negative commentation on the vagaries of bed frames in general and heavy wooden bed frames in particular, I did eventually disassemble the beast and hauled its various components to the hall, our room, and Josiah’s room – with the hardware abandoned in a butter tub in our office.

The installers arrived at 6:45 PM, and as I type this at 8:00 PM, Andrew’s room is done, our closet is in process, and Team Roberts (minus its mother) is moving everything out of Josiah’s room and into Andrew’s so that Josiah’s room can be carpeted.

To get an idea of what our second floor currently looks like, just take absolutely everything out of your master bathroom and pile it willy-nilly in your bedroom.  Take everything out of two other bedrooms and closets.  Put it out in the hall or on the master bed.  Take everything from the floor of your master closet and pile it on or beside your master bed.  Go to Lowe’s, Wal-Mart, and various internet sites, and spend way too much money on towel bars, shower curtain (and associated bar, liner, and rings), shower curtain bar, switch plate cover, and white (not tan) electrical fixtures.  Put all that out in the hall, too.  Take the large (5′ x 4′ x 3′?) bookshelf from your son’s room, and slide it into the hall bathroom.  Oh!  I almost forgot.  Take all the wood trim from the bathroom, the granite backsplash pieces for your new vanity, and a few miscellaneous doors, and put them in the master bedroom, too.  That would be your master bedroom that is about 11′ x 14′ and has a king-sized bed.  Of course, you wouldn’t be able to SEE the bed. And just to get the final effect, put a wooden bed frame in your living room.

As my hair stylist told me today, “You’ll love it when it’s done!”  Yes.  Come quickly, completion, come.

Inglish Toffee

After we (Scott, Josiah, and Mr. A) ripped up the soggy carpet in Josiah’s room and we found the metal plates (GASP!) nailed into the wood floor and all the paint and/or glue spilled onto other parts of the same floor, we decided that the most appropriate thing to do would be to re-carpet Josiah’s room.

Like all other aspects of remodeling, this little item of “re-carpeting Josiah’s room” has expanded  – to include re-carpeting Andrew’s room and re-carpeting out closet.  In our defense, Lowe’s is having a deal right now in which they will install carpet in one room, a whole house, or anything in between for $139.  Since it would be $139 (installation labor only) to do only Josiah’s room, and since Andrew’s room has been in desperate need of new carpet since before Andrew was born, we’ve chosen to add his.  Our closet, which abuts Josiah’s room and is, like his, carpeted in some pretty puke-awful who-knows-how-old pink stuff was an after thought that will also be included in the $139.

All three of those areas will receive some nice Stainmaster low-pile (but NOT Berber) carpet in a medium brown shade called “English Toffee.”  Carpeting by Lowe’s is a multi-step endeavor.  First, we paid $35 for a “detail.”  That means that their contracted carpet-layer called me to set up an appointment to come measure.  He came at 8:00 PM Monday evening.  He then faxed his measurements to Lowe’s.  They prepared an estimate and called me with the grand total today.  I called Scott.  He called Lowe’s.  He called me and told me to go ahead and sign the contract.  Once the contract is signed and the money changes hands, the installer will call me to set up a time to actually come do the work – within the promised 72 hours, but hopefully not when Scott’s not home.  We are saving some money by moving all the furniture ourselves, and that will be much easier on a day that Scott’s at home.  Our rough plan is to have them carpet Andrew’s room first (all of Andrew’s furniture having previously been lugged into Josiah’s room).  Then, they will go to lunch while we haul all of Andrew’s furniture back into his room along with most or all of Josiah’s furniture.  We will also empty our closet of about a metric ton of junk (not sure where to stash that) and rip up the offending pinkness sometime before the installers arrive.

Back to sigining the contract.  Never mind that I had been only one block away from Lowe’s (12 miles from home) at 9:00 this morning.  After lunch I went back to Lowe’s to sign the contract and put the balance on VISA.  I assumed it would be a simple process:  I’d go in, sign on the dotted line, and then sign the VISA receipt.  Not so fast, Sherlock!

I went to see our good friend, Kimberly in flooring, but she was tied up, so I was given to Rodrigo.  He attempted to print my contract.  It was a tedious affair, the end result of which was three copies of numerous pages.  I got one, the installer gets one, and Lowe’s gets one.  These had to be manually collated and stapled.  What happened next reminded me of what happens when you close on a house.  Remember?  It’s when the agent sits across the table from you and reads everything upside down and you just keep signing and signing and signing?  This was similar.  He read and pointed, I nodded and said um-hmm, and I signed.  Actually, since the contract had been drawn up in Scott’s name, I had to sign his name, which I hate to do, but there was no way around it IF we were to have a chance at getting our promised 72-hour install.

It was while I was signing somebody’s name on some dotted line that I noticed that the color of the carpet had been keyed in as “Inglish Toffee,” as opposed to its actual name:   “English Toffee.”  I am reminded that a couple years ago, Lowe’s added Spanish translations to every single bit of verbage in the entire store.  Maybe Rodrigo gave me the Hispanic spelling for our carpet.  Andrew doesn’t care.  He’s sure that any carpet with candy in its name has to be wonderful.

Josiah’s carpet

In the ongoing (though hopefully not eternal) saga of the bathroom remodel that resulted from trying to fix a leak,  we now submit a new chapter, entitled, “What shall be done with Josiah’s wet carpet, and who shall pay to do it?”

The current status of the remodel is as follows:

TUB: The tub is in.  There’s a plastic pipe sticking out where the tub faucet will go.  There’s no plastic pipe sticking out where the shower faucet will go, but there is a hole in the sheetrock up in that general location.  The back end of the tub has been elevated a couple inches, so as to allow the water to drain from it unassisted.  We hope the drain is tight and will not leak whenever water is again run through it.  That cannot be tested right now, because the tub is full of tools and supplies.  The space beneath the tub will need to be filled in with something, and some kind of (white rubber?) trim will need to be applied along the outside bottom of the tub to hide that space.

SURROUND: It will be cultured marble in three pieces, with two more little skinny pieces running down to the floor on the end walls on the near side of the tub.  It has been ordered and should have been ready for pick-up last week, but that didn’t happen.  Then it was supposed to be ready for pick-up yesterday, and I don’t know if that happened or not.  Astute readers may recall that a leak behind the tile at the faucet end of the tub/shower caused the wall to rot and the tile to fall in;  and the resulting hole in the surround motivated what has evolved into The Remodel From You Know Where.

Right now, we don’t know if that original leak has been fixed or not.  The plumbing fixtures can’t be put on the tub and shower faucets until after the surround is installed.  At that point, we will turn the faucets on, but how will we know if it’s leaking into the wall, if the wall is already covered with a huge slab of cultured marble?  And if it DOES happen to be leaking, how would one get TO it to fix it?  These are questions I simply cannot answer.

If the surround had been ordered from Harry Cooper Plumbing Supply (which is where we picked it out), they would have had it cut to our exact (though skewed) measurements, and they would have guaranteed that it would fit perfectly.  However, Mr. A got offended with Harry Cooper and ordered it from somewhere else.  Because our setting is so. . .  um. . .  unique and. . . uh. . .  challenging, he was going to just have the folks at the place he ordered it from do the installation.  As he said, “These guys do this every day, so they would know how to get it done right.”  My sentiments exactly.

Of course, the Harry Cooper guy had told Mr. A to put up cement board (I think it’s waterproof?) under the cultured marble, but the other place said to use sheetrock, because with the cultured marble, no water could ever get to it anyway.  So who knows who knows what?  But when Mr. A inquired about those guys installing the cultured marble and they said the installation fee would be $675 or $700, he gagged and decided (without asking us) to do it himself.  So.  He will bring it here, take his measurements, cut it, and we’ll all hope it fits properly!

FLOORING: The vinyl flooring is in and looks GREAT!  Most (but not all) of the baseboards have been painted and will be reinstalled at some point.

TOILET: Our cadillac throne is installed and working superbly.  We hope it’s not leaking like the old one did, but we don’t really know how to confirm that.

VANITY and COUNTERTOP: The latter has been affixed (with caulk. . .???) to the former, and the plumbing was hooked up to it on Monday.  I was there when Mr. A ran his finger around all the fittings for water to both come in and go out, and there were no leaks.  We were thrilled and began using the sink immediately (as per Mr. A’s instructions).  The back splashes have yet to be installed and caulked, but they are here.

This bathroom was initially – long before we bought the house – carved out of Josiah’s bedroom, so one wall of his bedroom is the wall behind our vanity and behind the back end of the tub.  Josiah’s bed is across the room from that wall, but in order to force himself to arise in the morning, he has his alarm clock plugged into an outlet on that wall, and it sits on the floor by that baseboard.

Wednesday morning, while I was in the office checking 4th grade and 8th grade math (fun, fun, fun), Josiah came in and said, “Mom, I think we have a problem.”  Now, there are seasons in which my life seems to move simply from one problem to the next, so I was thinking it could be anything from, “Andrew won’t start his laundry,” to “I just remembered I’m supposed to be in town in 15 minutes,” to “The math for this chemistry does NOT make any sense at all.”  So I replied something along the lines of, “Yes, and what else is new?”

He proceeded to inform me that when he went to bed the previous night (I guess he was being diligent and turning on his alarm) he had noticed that his carpet seemed a little damp, but he had “figured, oh, whatever.”  Rarely does anything odd about this house surprise us.  But this morning, the carpet was, “MUCH wetter, Mom.  I think something’s leaking somewhere.”

Well, we already had the improperly installed tub drain of the non-levelled tub (“I didn’t level it, but it looked okay to me.”) leak into the living room.  And no, that ceiling hasn’t been repaired, and we don’t yet know if Mr. A will take responsibility for doing so.  We already were told that he (Mr. A) couldn’t get any water pressure beyond a trickle in the bathroom, and did we USED to have good water pressure?  That seems to be  fine now.  We already were told we’d have to scrape the water down the tub to get it to drain, because “I guess these new tubs just don’t have as much slope as those old ones did.”  Hence our new tub with its hiney in the air.  So my response to Josiah’s comment was something akin to, “So, what’s another leak among frineds?”  But I told him to tell Scott, who was heading out to work, and Scott called Mr. A, who said he’d be there about 10:00 AM.

He did arrive at 10:00 AM with “Bill.”  Bill wasn’t real talkative, and no explanation was given, but I gathered that perhaps Bill was a plumber.  I first showed Mr. A the two new (thankfully small) water spots on the center of the living room ceiling.  Then I took him up to Josiah’s room where the carpet along that side of the room actually splashed when you stepped on it.  Next I took him into the Chamber of Horrors itself and showed him the wet (nothing quite like a little soggy particle board) inside bottom of the vanity.  He said – and I concur – that it hadn’t been leaking when he put it in on Monday.  I agreed with him, but added that something, somewhere was definitely leaking now!

With Josiah gone to meet with his mentor, and Jessica and Andrew both at piano lessons, I was home alone, so I was about to hike out to the well house and figure out how to turn off the water when Bill told me to wait; that they’d need another valve and they didn’t have that one with them, so they’d have to go get it.  They were back in about 45 minutes, as were the kids, so we filled our trusty red three-gallon water jug for drinking purposes, and Josiah shut of the water.

Next, Josiah pulled up the edge of the carpet in his room, folded it back, and aimed a fan at it.  Mr. A seemed to think that once the carpet was all dried out, everything would be okay.  Two hours later, Mr. A and Bill emerged and asked that the water be turned back on.  Which Josiah did.

Then Mr. A proceeded to explain to me in some detail exactly what the problem had been.  It was nothing HE had done.  THEY had used a valve (he held it in his hand to show me) that was designed to be used with copper pipe on a plastic pipe.  That should NEVER have been done, and it was a miracle it had never leaked before.  (It hadn’t leaked in the past 12 .5 years.)  The only thing he could figure was that THEY had had that valve on the cold and HE had put it on the hot.  And then, when the hot water went through, it made the metal of the valve expand and contract, which made it leak.  He, not being a plumber, didn’t realize that the valve that was there couldn’t go on plastic tubing, but Bill knew that.  Mr. A reiterated that Josiah’s carpet would be fine once it was dry.  Hmmmm…..

We went back into Josiah’s room to survey the damage.  The carpet and pad were truly soggy.  In fact, where they were “folded” back, they were actually dripping onto the floor.  It was interesting to see what was under his (nasty, filthy, stained, pink) carpet.  It’s the same kind of wood floor that’s in the living room, but those must be the only two rooms with that type – unless Andrew’s is the same.  The kitchen, dining room, Jessica’s room, the entryway, the upstairs hall, our bedroom, and our office all have pine floors that are quite different.  But here’s the real curiosity:  right where the wetest part of Josiah’s carpet had lain, there was A METAL PLATE nailed into his floor!!!  It’s maybe 12″ by 9″ or something, and Mr. A said, “See, it’s because of that plate.  See, the edges of it aren’t sealed down.  The water has seeped around the edges of that plate and gotten the carpet wet.  If that plate weren’t there, you (note his choice of pronoun) wouldn’t have this problem.

I thought to myself,  but didn’t say, “Well, maybe the carpet wouldn’t have gotten wet, but if there’s a leak, that water has to go somewhere.  We’re actually blessed that Josiah marched his big hairy bare feet over to his alarm clock and felt the squish before more damage was done somewhere else!”

So for the past two days, we’ve kept the fan going in Josiah’s room.  His bed is moved and he was gone overnight Wednesday, but last night he slept on the living room couch.

Today, Scott created and emailed to Mr. A a list of all the things we can think of that still need to be done.

It goes like this:

- Put wires in a box and sheet rock the hole.    (This area was behind the mirror.)

- Hang the bathroom mirror

-  Put up the bathroom lights

- Paint and reinstall the air vent in the bathroom

- Affix the window in the front storm door

-  Pull up and dry out the carpet in Jo’s room    (S&P should not have to pay for this.)

- Reinstall carpet once thoroughly dry    (S&P should not have to pay for this.   Actually, we may choose to install new carpet or just leave the wood floor.  If we do this, I would at least expect you to pull out and dispose of the old carpet.)

- Put up the toilet paper bar

- Put up (3) towel bars    (After cultured marble is mounted)

- Cut cultured marble to fit

- Install cultured marble walls

- Install bathtub and shower fixtures

- Test all the shower and tub water flow    (Check for leaks – Is there any way to do this before the surround is installed?)

- Install baseboards in master bath

- Fill in gap between floor and master bathtub    (There is a 2″ to 3″ gap)

- Adjust shower curtain rod to fit in 58″ space    (Standard length is 60.”  Once the surround is in, I think that length will be even less than 58″; maybe 56.5″ – 57″?  I am thinking the surround is 3/4″, which would take off an additional 1.5″, but I am not sure.)

- Install shower curtain rod    (We asked for the kind that bows out in the middle – I would like it to be brushed nickel.  It’s available at WM for about $20, as I recall.)

- Put down patches of flooring around boy’s toilet

- Replace, tape, and repaint living room ceiling where leak occurred     (S&P should not have to pay for this.)

- Paint over water spots in middle of living room ceiling   ( S&P should not have to pay for this.)

- Install new door knob in bathroom door

- Install (hinge-mounted) door stops in 3 doors    (Stops have already been purchased)

-  Rehang bathroom door

- Haul off all old fixtures, trash, and debris

Comments:
I felt I needed to let you know how I (we) are feeling about the remodel.  We have a saying in our home and I feel it is the right perspective for adults as well as children: “If you make a mess, you should clean it up.”  When one of our kids breaks another kid’s toy, it is their responsibility to either fix it or buy the child a new toy.  I know that there are a lot of additional expenses that have been incurred because we have added things to the original list (e.g. replacing the vanity, going with cultured marble instead of snap on surround).  Since these were not part of the original bid, I expect to pay for these things.  But when it comes to the problems that have resulted from the water leaks, I (we) feel this is not our responsibility.  I understand that the shut off that was on the lavatory was the wrong kind, but it hasn’t leaked for the last 12 years.  It only started leaking after the remodelling work was completed.  So to me, this problem is clearly a result of the remodelling and repairing it should be the responsibility of the one who did the work.
As I mentioned above, it looks like our choice will be to pull up all the carpet and throw it away.  Once this is done, we will determine what to do with the floor in the bedroom.  I hope you can understand our perspective.  I hesitated to say this to you because I value our friendship, but I thought it was best to say how I feel in an honoring way.  Thanks for listening.

Meanwhile, I priced carpet at Lowe’s today.  They had quite a few rolls, and not one of them was soggy.

“Houston, we have flushability.”

“We Have Flushability”

(To be sung to the tune of “Onward Christian Soldiers”)

We have flushability,
And we are so glad.
In the master bathroom,
A flush can now be had.
Though the room has nothing else,
Neither sink nor door,
There the throne sits all pristine and
Bolted to the floor.

We have flusahbilty;
Wifely joy expands.
I (who’ve used the boys’ room,
For a month’s demands)
Am so thrilled I can vacate
Such a yucky place.
I won’t brush my teeth in there or
Even wash my face.

We have flushability,
Early morning bliss.
Diuretic visits
Are first on my list.
Thankful my bathrobe can now
Be left on the door;
With no care for who might see me
Now relief’s in store.

We have flushability,
Vacuum powered stuff.
This new toilet’s function
Is so very tough.
Every time I use it I
Fear it might not work
But I press the lever and it
Flushes with a jerk.

We have flushability,
But we yearn for more.
We still lack a shower,
Bathtub, sink, and door.
Yes, we have the vinyl floor.
Yes, paint’s on the wall
But mistakes, delays, and snow have
Made the progress stall.

We have flushabilty,
And we hold to hope.
It won’t disappoint us
We refuse to mope.
Someday all will be complete,
And we’ll pay the bill.
We’ll rejoice in no more leaking
Never, nada, nil.

We have flushability
With our new white toy.
And we still are married;
O, remodeling joy!