Our downstairs is completely torn apart. The items in the storage closets have been
housed in the garage since July. The
furnishings are stacked in the center of the room, covered in dusty
plastic. The hallway and bedroom closets have no walls. Long channels have been cut through the
ceilings to expose the floor above.
The reason for this catastrophe is the installation of the
first ever central heating system in our house. We paid dearly for the
privilege of nearly freezing last winter. The $400-$600 /monthly electric bills
moved that gas furnace right to the very top of the list of renovations. The
new furnace needed a place to be, so we had to expand the utility closet. Salt,
being an architect, naturally decided this would be a great time to change the
configuration of the downstairs guest rooms, because architects decide stuff
like that with the same ease that I decide to buy a new comforter set for the
bedroom.
In short, our basement is a construction zone, but let me
tell you a little about the do-it-yourself experience from the perspective of a
novice.
You know those reality shows where the homeowners help with
demolition and finish the job in what the show purports to be the same day with
enormous grins on their faces? The homeowners always start out energetically
heaving sledgehammers and gleefully tossing large fixtures into a dumpster.
They laugh as they kick down walls like they were made of papier maché. It
looks like so much fun.
Now that I’ve
done a demolition, I know those happy-go-lucky, dust covered homeowners really spent
the day in the craft services tent munching on muffins, while day laborers
ripped the studs out and painstakingly removed every last remaining nail
head. Oh, I’m sure someone occasionally
calls those homeowners away from the break table to get a shot of them helping
the host lift something heavy, but there is no way they do a full day of
demolition and have the energy to smile.
My first day of demolition went something like this. . .
8:30 – 9:30 a.m. – I remove the
baseboards from the hallway and closets, scraping my hands on the floor with
the pry bar.
9:30 –9:40 a.m. – Find my gloves
and begin tackling the trim around the doorways.
9:40 – 9:50 a.m. – Push and pull
with all my might on the trim around the doorways. Try to think of ladylike sounding curse words
and settle on growling in gibberish, until Salt comes to remove the trim from
around the door.
9:50 – 9:55 a.m. – Try knocking out
dry wall in the hallway. The sledgehammer bounces off of the wall several
times. Salt demonstrates how to find the
sweet spot with one’s foot.
9:55 – 10:00 a.m. – Miss the sweet
spot. Spend a few minutes trying to extract my foot from the wall. In the meantime, Salt finishes removing the door
frames and begins removing drywall surrounding one of the closets.
10:00 -10:30 a.m. – Remove the dry
wall from the hallway. Begin tackling
the nail heads from the studs that will be remaining in place.
If we don’t have a craft services tent, we should at least have a production
assistant bring us lattes. Note
for next demolition: hire a personal assistant (PA).
10:30 a.m. – 2:00 p.m. – For three and one half seemingly endless
and unrewarding hours, remove nails that were put in by an OCD contractor who
was clearly afraid the linen closet would fall down if the dry wall was not
secured every three inches by a nail. I have two blood blisters on my
thumb from pinching it under the hammer and have hit myself in the face twice when
stubborn nails gave way suddenly.
2:00 – 2:10 p.m. – Take a break
from removing nails to take out a stud. Pound on the stud for a couple of
minutes, then look helplessly at Salt. Salt rips it out with his bare hands. I
explain, “I could have done that, but I have these blood blisters.”
2:10 – 2:15 p.m. – It’s time to
assess the damage. I’ve been up and down the step ladder so many times, my
thighs and gluts are screaming. My shoulders and neck are stiff and sore. My
blood blisters need bandages. The joints in my hands are completely swollen and
bruised from pounding against the pry bar. I can no longer close my right hand.
We’re not even half way done with the demolition. House 10, Diva 2.
 |
| 2:00 p.m. Time to tear out a stud. |
2:15 – 3:30 p.m. – I decide the
house is mean and endeavor to remove more nails just to show it who is boss. Trip up and down the ladder a few more
times. Hit myself with the face with the
hammer handle pretty hard this time.
3:30 p.m. – Officially exhausted to
the point where I am more of a danger to myself than the house. Note for next
demolition: hire day labor in addition to a PA.
4:00 p.m. – My last ounce of energy
is spent lifting my arms to wash my hair. It’s time to lie on the sofa and
die. Salt is still downstairs working. Shouldn’t
the camera crew be taking the victory shot of us high fiving each other in the
rubble by now? I couldn’t lift my arms anyway. I dare the DIY Network to show
up on my doorstep. I’d give them a piece of my mind. On second thought, I’m
too tired for that too.
In summary, it took three weekends to finish the demolition,
and I probably only did a quarter of the work. I’m not as fast or able as Salt.
Partly it was because I didn’t have a PA
to raise my beer bottle in a toast to success at the end of the day, so I had
to conserve my energy. Mostly, it was
because I try not to be in the same room with a sawzall for a variety of
reasons related to me being klutzy menace to myself and others.
After the demolition, it took three more weeks for Salt to
install the duct work, and six painful weeks for the furnace company to
complete the installation of the furnace.
This last was only made possible by the heroic efforts of the company’s
salesman, who spent weeknights at our house for three weeks. Ultimately, the furnace was fired up just in
time for the first cold snap of the season. We received our first gas bill after a
full month of heating which was $80. .
and the entire house is warm.
Central heating is an amazing invention. It is now my second
most appreciated household convenience, after running water. Someday, we’ll get
the downstairs put back together again, hopefully before the satisfaction of
being warm wears off.
