Twenty-three holes in the house, and did I mention the heat wave?

Last week, we got 19 new windows, and a new sliding door to boot.  This was my single largest purchase to date (not counting the house itself), and the very thought makes me a little light-headed.  But since I have chosen to live in denial, let's say no more about it.  Consider it my gift to you, future homeowner. I hope they're holding up well— but if not, they come with a lifetime warranty.  Call Anlin.

I had some delusions about continuing to work in the house while they were "doing other rooms," but I was completely mistaken. In mere moments, they had swathed the house in plastic and tarps.  I had to rescue my laptop from under wraps and take it out to Lalo's man-cave (aka the un-air-conditioned garage).

The whole of LA has been in the grips of a heat wave this week, and naturally the valley is considerably hotter than everywhere else. Probably not the best day to make 20 (additional) giant holes in your house.  So while Lalo and I sweated in the garage, Don (our contractor) sweated in the kitchen, and a dozen guys sweated in the house, the yard and all between.  

The scheduler had said the installation would take two full days.  Boy, were they wrong.   A swarm of men descended upon us, and they were done in less than a day.  Boom, new windows in six or seven hours.  By about 3 PM, though, they had wrapped up.  I had shiny new windows and a new sliding door in the master bedroom.  And it's nice to finally have a window in the kitchen (instead of plywood). We've been living with cave-like conditions for a while, as we've been without a kitchen window since demo in May. 

I sort of miss the charm of the old windows, but I can already tell they make it quieter and cooler in here. Both of those are good, in my book.  If you're mourning the look of the oldies, rest assured that there wasn't much left to save.  The years of neglect caught up to them. But that wasn't on my watch!

Since then, Don wrapped up the stucco, which sealed up the other three holes in the house.  All in all, that makes it more like a house and less like a swiss cheese.  Which comes in handy when you're living on the surface of the sun.  Although with global warming, perhaps you're looking back at 110-degree days with nostalgia. 

I'll think I'll go turn on the AC.

 

The road goes ever, ever on…

Our kitchen project continues to linger.  We started demo on June 9, 2012. Today is August 12 (still 2012, despite how long it feels)—nine weeks and a day.  Yesterday was a banner day.  We finally unpacked our boxes of dishes, pots and pans.   Yeah, some of those spices had expired. Buh-bye.

Mind you, I hadn't seen some of these things since we moved from Burbank.  We knew we'd be undertaking a kitchen reno, so we packed some of the items for long-term storage in the garage. Of course, by the time we unpacked, I was ready to let go of some of them. It's amazing what nine months can do for your perspective.  Also, I've been doing some shopping (presents for my kitchen) aand some of the old had to make way for the new.  So today we made a donation run and passed some treasures along to the next lucky owner.  

For those who have dined chez moi, you may remember the blue dishes I have had since I lived in New York (the pattern is called Mesa, and apparently there is a market for them on eBay).  Truth be told, they weren't even new when I got them, but were hand-me-downs from my dad and stepmom, Anna. A few years after that, I had a thrift-store miracle of sorts and found an assortment of that same pattern at St. Vincent de Paul. Fate.  But after eating off those dishes (off and on) for 30 years or so, it was time to say goodbye.  Maybe they'll complete someone else's set of Mesa. 

But back to the kitchen…yesterday was also our last day with Contractor Don.  We had some scope-creep and added his list of projects, so he ended up being with us longer than planned.  In addition to removing the load-bearing wall, doing the drywall and electrical, and repairing the stucco (to seal up the holes), he also installed the cabinets and generally consulted on all of our DIY stuff.  Hopefully I didn't annoy him with too many questions (ahem). Our dog, Diogy, will miss him indeed—and not just because she consistently begged part of his lunch.  They’re buds. 

So now we're on our own, with a ways to go yet.  We were set to paint this week, until Lalo tweaked his shoulder playing hockey.  Probably not the best time to paint a ceiling. I certainly wasn't going to undertake it on my own—I paint trim on my own (frequently) but when it comes to walls you have to have a team to do it well.  I'm the cut-in pro, he's the roller.  And so, painting will wait until he's off the bench.

This is a big week, though: the counters are coming!  Don set us up with plywood counters so we have something to use in the meantime.  With the counters, we get our sink, at long last.   We've been using the laundry room sink—better than the bathtub, but no comparison to a real sink and—sigh—a dishwasher. I don't know if this falls into the category of "first world problems," since I feel like we have been camping for over two months. At least I don't have to go outside to cook anymore. Now we have a fridge and stove indoors like the fancy city folk. 

The list goes something like this (the pros are only doing the first item, namely the counters):

• Counters/sink
• Plumbing
• Paint
• Lighting
• Tile backsplash
• Window treatment

So we're getting closer.  Of course, there are knock-on projects in all the surrounding room as a result of this one.  But I'll think about that tomorrow.

 

But it's only two inches off….

Our progress has been slower than expected, but we are moving along. The last couple weeks have had their ups and down.  Apparently, our kitchen shrank by two inches between the time that we measured for the cabinets and when they were delivered.  Bad math?  Bad magic?  Doesn't matter. Since we measured, it's our liability. 

I have ceased to shake my fist and lament to the heavens. But the upshot is that we lost our "filler strip" in the pantry corner. So that means the cabinet has to go right up against the wall (not ideal). The other options?  Buy two smaller cabinets (upper and lower, cha-ching) and wait three weeks for them to be delivered. Not gonna happen.  Or the sink cabinet could be off-center—but with a sliding window, a double-bowl sink and a symmetrical cabinet, it would be really obvious.  I envisioned myself sitting at my pretty breakfast bar, glaring at the zigzag arrangement.  That's a no-go.

And so we end up with a pantry cabinet that sits flush with the wall.  Oh well. 

But let's focus on the ups!  I have a refrigerator inside my house for the first time in about seven weeks.  I had purchased it from Lowes back on Thanksgiving weekend.  Yeah.  It's been sitting in the garage that long.  The nice delivery men came back today, moved it inside and even connected it for me. Et voila!  I'm back in the 21st century.

Don installed the microwave-hood combo, so that brought me up to two whole appliances!  And we moved the stove back in shortly thereafter. 

Still in progress: The countertop "templating," as they say in the biz, was completed on Monday. Now we wait 10-14 days for installation…at which point I can have a sink again—hallelujah. We also need paint and trim.Oh, and a window. Not that the plywood doesn't look awesome.  And we still have stucco to repair outside.   

Here's how I ended up with three holes on the house.  The first one you know about already—we had to tear out the bump-out because it was leaking, which set me off on my window adventure.  Still waiting for delivery.

 The second one is the planned removal of the strangely low window. It was nice to have a second window in the kitchen, but there were a couple issues. First, the window was too low for counter height.  Second, there was no place to put the larger refrigerator.  S'long, window. Hello stucco repair.

Which brings me to hole number three…a bonus hole, if you will.  As you see, we had the remnants of a bad repair job from some prior owner.  It was cracking around the perimeter, so I asked Don if he could please patch it up when he does the rest of the stucco.  So he set Lalo to chipping out the crack to make way for the repair.

I come back a short while later, and Lalo has opened the wall from the window sill to the ground.  Needless to say, I was taken aback.  It was explained to me that the entire repair was bad and couldn't be salvaged. And then Lalo kept going, since the wall exposed the plumbing, and we would be able to install a laundry fixture (the water/drain combo that makes it so you don't have to use the sink—which looks pretty awful).  So as alarming as it was to have a surprise hole in the side of the house, it turned out to be a boon.  Hooray for a pretty laundry room…someday!

Window conundrum

The problem with shopping for one window…is what do you do about the rest of them?  Our current windows are the original, wooden, double-hung windows.  They have what I believe is called a "dog ear" on the top sash.  Cute.  Not efficient. Some are painted shut. And sadly, several are in bad repair.  As this house was in foreclosure, quite a bit of maintenance had been deferred—i.e., the house had been neglected.

 Leaky window

When I was confronted with the leaking kitchen window, I opted to remove the whole bump-out—presumably, the roof flashing was what was leaking.   

Since the sides of the house are stucco, we had to tear out the framing and make a new window surround (which will eventually hold the window).  Don is doing this part, since Lalo and I would have no idea where to start.  Though I guess that would be the demo part.  We seem to be good at that part. Nevertheless, leaving this to the pro.

 Big hole in the house!

But what kind of window do you get when you only are going to replace one?  Well, some of the windows are in rough shape—particularly the southern-facing ones, due to all that beautiful California sunshine.  I figured I was a year or two away from replacing all or some of the windows.  If I had to buy one now, I'd better have a plan for the rest of the replacements.

I met with a couple of window replacement companies.  One of them was really good at his job.  And the next thing I knew, I was ordering all 19 windows and a sliding door.  What can I say? He made me an offer I couldn't refuse.  I'm looking forward to my new energy-efficient windows and trying not to think about the money.  The manufacturer is Anlin and they have a lifetime warranty (for the house's life, not mine—you're welcome, future owners!).

I’ll be sad to see the old divided lights go.  The mullions in vinyl replacement windows look so cheesy I opted out.  But in the long run, I feel like it's the most responsible choice. The best part? When I open a window, I won't have to worry about the sash falling apart anymore.

Bearing the load

When you spend a crapload of money on a new roof, you have a vested interest in keeping it on top of your house. So when we discovered we had a load-bearing wall, we called in reinforcements.  

 This wall

I posted a question on Facebook (I wonder if that'll still be around by the time you're reading this? It's all the rage now) asking for a referral to a contractor.  Somewhat enigmatically, my friend James said "Don Fisher! He's an artist!"  Now, this was a little confusing to me because I know Don is a literal artist—he's an actor.  But presumably James was referring to something construction-related. I dug a little deeper and got the idea he was a carpenter. When I called, he told me he's actually a licensed contractor and cabinet maker.  And due to a lucky turn of fate, he was also available!

Don came over about a week after our demo.  We chatted about the house for quite a while (so long that his wife texted something along the lines of, "Are you bidding on the job or DOING the job?"), and we decided to enlist him in our project. 

Our plan called for removing a window—it was too low for counter height.  This must have been the world's smallest eat-in kitchen.  So it was either replace the window or close it up and gain some wall space—in our case, a new place for the fridge.  We opted for more wall space.  When Don came over, he noticed that the other kitchen window—which had a bump-out of a few inches—appeared to have been leaking.   It needed to be replaced.

 We think it was the flashing that was leaking

So we encountered a bit more scope creep in our plans—a new window.  But the good news is that Don knows how to do a lot of things that (as was quickly becoming apparent) were well beyond our ability.  So we kept some of the tasks we are capable of completing ourselves.  In my case, painting—not impressive, I know—and in Lalo's case, moving the gas line and plumbing.  Yeah, that's right.  Skills, yo.

Bustin' it up

At this point we have been living without a kitchen for so long I've lost track.  Lalo says it's been 5 and a half weeks, and while it seems like much longer, my calendar indicates that's about right.

In early June, Susie came over and helped up tear the joint apart.  Which is to say, we got the benefit of her many months of boot camp (not real boot camp, mind you—I assume it's an exercise regimen where people yell at you while you do push-ups).  Lalo and Susie were definitely the brawn of the operation, while I busied myself with taking stuff out to the back yard. 

Our first disappointment occurred when Lalo went up to the attic to rake back the insulation and discovered that the wall we were planning to partially remove was load-bearing.  This despite the assurances of a contractor we had met with (his bid would have blown my budget—hence our attempt at DIY).  So….rats. Load-bearing wall. 

 

The second disappointment was that the cabinets were installed in such a crazy fashion that they had to be completely demolished.  I had hoped to donate the structurally sound ones to Habitat for Humanity (or at least put some in the shed for storage).  No dice.  They were nailed to the wall and—perplexingly—also through the upper soffit.  I'm not quite sure how they managed that.  

The upshot—Lalo and Susie swung away, and we ended up with a big pile of splintered wood in the back yard. Not one, but two hammers were tossed during the demo.  Presumably by accident, as no one was hurt. 

Then the walls came down.  And the ceiling. Don't worry, that was part of the plan.  I admit, I was reassured it was so damn hard to take it apart.  Rest assured, this house is solidly built.  It wouldn't come quietly and had to be torn asunder.  It took about a day and a half, but we eventually wrestled it into submission. And by we, I mean Lalo and Susie.  But I helped. 

Razing the roof

I undertook my first major house project right before we moved in last December. The roof was actively leaking, and we were at the beginning of another SoCal rainy season. Because the house was a foreclosure, the bank that owned it was completely unwilling to fix anything. In fact, the lending department at the very same institution made me jump through all kinds of hoops because of the leaky roof. In case you can't tell, I'm still a little bitter about it.  Hopefully I'll be over it by the time you move in, but no promises. Everything you have heard about the dysfunctional banking system of the "great recession" (or whatever you come to call it by the time people are driving around in flying cars) is completely true.

The original cedar shakes were still on the roof (beneath several layers of asphalt shingles), so the whole shebang had to be torn off and new plywood and roofing installed.  Be glad this didn't happen on your watch! It's very expensive and messy.  We got lucky with the weather, and no rain fell into the attic while the house was open to the elements. 

View from the back yard before the roof was replaced

We thought about installing a "cool roof," but decided against it.  It would have been a good deal more expensive, and the roofer had a low opinion of its effectiveness. Since I was already spending more money than I'm comfortable writing about, we went with a composite shingle. I chose light grey because the color reflects more light and is cooler in the summer.  I'm not sure why anyone would install a black roof in this climate, but it happens with surprising frequency.

It took about three days for the roofers to completely strip and replace the roof.  The same day they finished it, we started moving in. Diogy was decidedly unhappy about the whole affair.  It seems she doesn't like change.  It took a couple of weeks for her to adjust to her new digs.  There was a lot of cowering in the back seat of the car and reluctance to come inside. My BFF Kelly said this was a clear indication that the house is haunted.  It's not. Unless you're reading this so far in the future that I am now haunting your house. However, I like to think I'm looking down from above. In addition to all the perks of heaven, I'd have a good view of that roof.