We're doing a remodeling project at Blogger HQ to take in some attic space and create a new home office. We've hired our favorite contractors Doug and Christine to tackle this job and basically turn our lives upside down for the next two months. Join us as we explore whether remodelers and home owners can peacefully coexist and/or find out if it's OK to dump a body in a construction dumpster.
Remodel Diary
Day 1
"Framers start early," Contractor Doug said.
"They'd like to get goin at 7:30 Monday morning if that's OK."
What he DIDN'T say was that a guy in an 18-wheeler would pull up in front of the house with a load of lumber forty minutes BEFORE the framer's "early start". One small detail that was lost in translation.
That's why I was shaving when I heard the rumbala-bumbala-bumbala of an 18-wheeler idling in front of our house. No, we don't get many big rigs in our gated Colleywood cul-de-sac. So it took a while for my Monday-morning brain to realize that this 18-wheeler might have SOMETHING to do with our remodeling project.
After rinsing the shaving cream off my face, I threw on a pair of shorts and grabbed a golf shirt out of the dirty clothes hamper. I know this wardrobe choice isn't in keeping with the Colleywood dress code, dahling...but protocol be damned. I was in a hurry.
God bless you, lumber-haulin car nut.
Truck-drivin-lumber-haulin guy was standing beside his idling 18-wheeler as I came out of the house. "Could you open the garage door?" he asked.
This is the garage that truck-drivin-lumber-haulin guy was trying to save. Notice the 4'x8' hole in the ceiling at the back of the garage. It's how a lot of this lumber is going to get upstairs...
"Ok, but why?" I said. "I mean all this lumber won't fit in the garage. There's no way" I was starring at a stack of trusses, plywood decking and other elements of destruction construction about 8 feet tall.
"Yeah," he said. "But when the lumber slides off the truck, I don't want it to crash through your garage door."
Good idea, I thought. Except I wondered why crashing through my garage door was preferable to crashing into my HOUSE through the OPEN garage door. All I could think was truck-drivin'-lumber-haulin' guy must be a car nut and he respected the sanctity of a man's garage. Good to know. God bless you, lumber-haulin car nut.
He slid back in the cab and hit the lift lever. The lumber "package" finally slid off the back end of the truck when it was lifted to about a 70-degree angle. KA-POW! Made me glad that it was 6:50 a.m. and all my neighbors were probably inside taking showers - not standing in their driveways with wet hair wearing dirty golf shirts.
After I made sure truck-drivin-lumber-haulin guy wasn't going to take out Charlotte's roses on his way out the driveway, I went back inside to finish getting dressed. Charlotte asked why I'd left the bathroom in mid-shave to run outside in a dirty golf shirt (like I'd never done THAT before) and I told her.
"I'm already ready for this to be over," she moaned.
"Baby," I said. "The fun's just startin..."