No more dangling on the hairy edge

Since we demolished much of the half-wall in April, navigating our staircase meant descending into a hole in the floor—and traversing our great room meant avoiding said hole.

This resulted in moments of heart pounding excitement. Such as when we maneuvered scaffolding over the pit in order to reach the peak for painting. Or carrying 16 foot long pieces of trim into the house and almost taking one step too far back when trying to place the bouncy boards on the great room floor.

But all that was to change on Friday. At last, we were ready for Railco Metalcraft to install our railings. They did careful measurements and we approved their detailed shop drawings for railings going on both sides of our steps from the deck to the back yard, down the side of the house where Wasko poured concrete steps, from the top floor to the landing, from the landing to the walk-out basement and even for the three steps up to the pending second bathroom.

Then my office phone rang at 10:45 a.m. It was Robert from Railco, who was having a problem with the install. The poplar surround changed the dimensions of the hole in the floor. The railing no longer had proper knuckle clearance to pass inspection. In a gentle voice, Robert explained that “they” did this, that and the other thing wrong.

I admitted, there was no “they.” It was us. We did it wrong. We approved the drawings and never looked at them again. We did the surround in order to hide the bad drywall, without considering the way this element would (or would not) tie in with the railings.

His tone softened further, but I could imagine him thinking, “Expletive! Now I have to come back and finished the job! Expletive do-it-yourselfers!”

We talked through the project; I thought Matt and I could handle it. So I told Robert to install everything he could and leave the rest for us to figure out. He gave me his mobile phone number and said he was just a call away if we ran into trouble. Matt and I conferred and agreed with this course of action.

What did we do this weekend? We pulled the trim off of the left side of the surround, purchased a new circular saw and used it to cut the poplar as close to the wavy wall as we could and I used an orbital sander to try to create a subtle groove to ensure there would be code-required knuckle room. We also ripped hardboard and painted it white as a low-profile trim substitute.

The railing overshot our surround, and this forced us to figure out how we’d finish the front of the stairs. Poplar. It had been the obvious answer all along, but our rush to complete the 18 treads blinded us to thinking about the project holistically.

All we had left was one board of the appropriate length, but with a crown that hadn’t been treated royally by the mill. It took me more than three hours of sanding to make it usable. (Meanwhile, Matt painted trim.) Yes, this was a far superior option to going back to Home Depot. Their sound system—controlled by Atlanta headquarters—crackles in a way more irritating than the endless whir of an electric sander and their peopled checkout lines never seem to move forward.

So undoing and redoing was all we accomplished this weekend, but we met our objective. The entire surround is poplar, and it looks the way it should. All the silver railings are in place and beautiful. And I no longer have to worry about dangling on the hairy edge. The great room now has fall protection.

The spicy smell of cedar

Miguel and Jess are constructing the privacy walls on both the upper and lower decks. These are comprised of cedar over a pressure-treated infrastructure. After a lot of ruminating, the concept Steve, Matt and I agreed on was a horizontal “good neighbor” fence.

Below it, Matt and I are installing cedar deck skirting. The idea of off-the-shelf lattice wasn’t cutting it for us, so we ordered one-by-eights of cedar from Corey at 84 Lumber and are attaching the boards horizontally, with gaps of about an inch. The house is starting to look anchored to the ground.

With all the recent rain, this lumber is perfuming the air and making us all the more anxious to get to a point where we can install our cedar hot tub, which I optimistically ordered in February.

Renovation tip: Save time by creating a drilling jig that eliminates the need to measure over and over and over and ensures all the screws line up attractively.

On November 7, we blew past the tentative completion date for the project. For me, this was a non-surprising non-event; I had placed little faith in this date. Nonetheless, there is progress:

• Joe installed the all-important operable Velux® Manual Venting skylight in the upstairs bathroom on November 10. Like all our windows, it is Energy Star rated.



• The roofing materials arrived on Tuesday, November 4—at the neighbor’s parking area. (I brought over a nice bottle of apology wine.) The next day, Matt spent some time on the roof, seeing how Joe installs it. (Then the rotted side wall in the great room—the reconstructed exterior is shown below—diverted the crew). The Advantage-Lok® Standing Seam roofing in unpainted Galvalume® now covers about 80 percent of the house. Our Energy Star-rated roof has a Total Solar Reflectance (TSR) of 68%—the highest offered in this product line—and it gleams in moonlight and disappears in the fog.



• The Therma-Tru® sliding glass door was installed in our bedroom on November 5. It still doesn’t open or close easily enough, but at least the non-functioning, code-violating bay window is gone. (So is the one in the kitchen.)



• My front door, Daisy Allendale by Crestview, was ordered in April, arrived in June and on November 15, Joe made it swing true and added the door hardware from 84 Lumber.



• The stucco process began on November 7; finally, after a lot of begging, we got our color and texture choices on November 14. The stucco crew has been leaving the area disarray. We have cleaned up after them too often. Today Matt sent a note to Alex and Steve entitled, “Weekly email about trash and deck protection,” that said in part: “If they can’t respect our property, then they need to be replaced.”



• We passed our structural inspection on November 12.



• We passed our rough electrical inspection on November 14.

Duct tape, spackle and pray for good weather

By guest writer and project co-conspirator Matt Davis

After months or structural work, framing and endless decisions, the end of the project is in sight. Like the horizon, we can see it but it never seems to get closer. Today, as The Call once sang, “And the walls came down.”

We have exorcised most of the demons, cast upon the home by nefarious owners of the past who learned framing in a gravity-free environment.

In Kurt Vonnegut’s very funny Slapstick, the earth’s gravity fluctuates over eons, being unusually stable in the 20th Century. The story says this is how ancient people with no engines could build Stonehenge and the Pyramids, simply carrying great boulders and placing them.

Gravity must have also been on the lighter side in 1959 and 1997, when former owners Commodore Scrapwood and Dr. Coverup, respectively, slapped broken sticks and rusty nails on our home and quickly left town. At the end of Slapstick, the gravity fluctuations occur more quickly, with the last inhabitants of Manhattan Island alternating between crawling along and skipping lightly with boners. Like living through a remodel.

The latest demon (we’ll call him “Mitt Romney”) reared his darkened coif today when the builder installed windows. Pulling out the old windows on one side of the house took part of the wall with it and unveiled a rotten, termite-damaged wood sillplate. This section had been carefully covered up when the good Doctor did his 1997 space walk/remodel.

Luckily, a large crew of framers (we’ll call them “Jefferson, Madison, Hamilton and Franklin”) were on site and rebuilt the wall. We’re awaiting a large bill. Later this week, the siding starts.

Who knows which demon still lurks behind those walls? Not sure, but I know we’ll call her “Sarah Palin.”

Don’t stew with fury

The windows came today.

Well, most of them. The critical windows did not.

Missing is the operable skylight for the upstairs bathroom. Until it is in place, the roof cannot be installed. From a timing perspective, however, we are in good shape: the metal roofing material is not yet onsite.

The other key elements yet to be delivered are the sliding glass doors needed to close in the great room, bringing in the view and sunlight while keeping in the heat. The great room was opened up to the elements on October 2.

Also missing is a big window for the downstairs bathroom and the sliding glass doors for the master bedroom.

What did arrive was wrong. We specified factory finish white interior. We got unprimed pine. We wanted satin nickel hardware. We got off-white. We wanted gliders. We got casement windows. And there is one window that must have been delivered to the wrong house, because there is no chance that ugly two-pane mistake is getting attached to this Casa!

It seems Alex did not refer to the window schedule Matt and I provided, nor did he write down or remember our instructions from the face-to-face conversations we had about windows. I guess he just guessed—and guessed wrong.

So I let out that deep, audible sigh—the kind that only a frustrated woman can make.

“Don’t stew with fury,” my husband advised.

Too late!

Renovation tip: Be sure to inspect the windows before they are installed to avoid getting a nasty surprise attached to your home. At least the windows sitting on our great room floor are the right brand and series, Anderson 400, so we can take small comfort that we did not get a quality and cost bait-n-switch.

Epilogue: Honey, love the one you’re with

Well, they are not the windows we ordered but now two of them are attached to my house, along with the new back door. We could see these improvements on Election Night because Willi the Electrician has begun putting in lights. Soon the space we call a walk-out basement will be referred to as a room.

I will accept progress with these windows rather than waiting who knows how long for the windows I expected.

Sunrise on Saturday

From our master bedroom window, we watched the sun rise over the Feeney railing that Miguel and Jess installed on the deck this week. The sun was up by 7:47 a.m. and the framers, led by Chico, were here at 8 a.m. sharp to work on the downstairs.

It had been a long week of living in a construction zone. On Tuesday, wind and snow drove us to a hotel. Granted, it is a couple of lucky ’fugees who seek refuge at the Westin. The punch line? As Matt was soaping up his hair, the hotel ran out of water, putting an end to his hot shower.

Renovation tip: If you are living in your house during the building process, expect there will come a day when you cannot take it anymore. Maybe it will be the dust, the restricted living space, the cold or the general lack of sanctuary... Go ahead and get out. Consider it a mini vacation and have a great time!

On Thursday, October 30, Alex wrote: “…by middle of next week at which time the roof will be on (delivery was supposed to be today but was delayed!!!!!) And all the windows will be installed… I know it seems like its never going to get done, and that you are living like a couple of gypsies, but I will do all I can to finish and help in any way I can…”

In the meantime, I’ve been having that dream again—the one where wild animals come into the house and rummage through the cupboard, eating my organic cereal and getting into mischief.

Perhaps it is because there was a raccoon in our garbage can the other night, looking back at me when I opened the lid. Or maybe it is because a mother black bear and two cubs kept Miguel and his colleagues in their truck until the family wandered away. Conceivably, it is the sound of the wind rustling through the plastic because we do not yet have walls in the great room.

To help chase the dreams—and the critters—away, Matt put a sign on the pantry.

Sunday

This morning—after going to bed too late and getting up too early because Daylight Saving Time ended—we stepped outside to enjoy the new cable railings sparkling in the sun. Very satisfying.

We are at that point of the project now…

…where we are getting pretty darn sick of the relentlessness of this renovation!

Perhaps it is no wonder, as we:

• Started planning for this project even before we began house hunting.
• Hired the first architecture firm in September 2006.
• Began bidding the project in July 2007 to builders, most of whom mocked us for having a design that—even it if was executable—would cost us more than the value we’d ever reap.
• Walked away from Jimmy and Anthony in January 2008, after their designs failed every test—from not following our instructions on paper to not being buildable in the real world.
• Had our loan cut on February 1, thanks to the credit crunch that was building momentum to become the full-blown global crisis it is today.
• Hired The Todd, another disappointing (but less expensive) architect, on February 17.
• Undertook the downstairs demolition ourselves in March.
• Learned that the problems behind the walls were worse than anticipated, and hired a structural engineer in April to help divine solutions.
• Selected Steve Wasko as our builder, along with his partner, Alessandro Schiavone, on May 31.
• Got permit approval on July 17.
• Saw structural repairs get underway on July 28.
• Freaked out when Wasko’s crew removed the deck on September 2 and rejoiced when rebuilding started right away.
• Tried to maintain a sense of humor once construction moved upstairs on October 2. In terms of geologic time, it hasn’t been an era. In terms of quality of life—from not seeing the lake view because we lack windows to wind gusting through the plastic film to nails and other shrapnel on the floor to dust everywhere—it is relentless.
• Tempered our tempers when there were visible signs of a lack of progress. On Friday, we came home to a “we missed you” sticker on the door regarding a plumbing inspection for our in-progress downstairs bathroom. Yesterday and the Saturday before, we got up early and evacuated our home so members of Alex’s crew could work. They didn’t make it either day. The lack of a roof is also impeding progress. We thought it was to be installed last week; last week, we thought it would be the week before… There is some sort of “blah-blah-blah back order” delay.

Coping mechanisms for Matt and me, in addition to laughing—a lot—include playing kissy face and huggy bear, making good use of Morris County’s lovely parks (today we had a picnic), keeping on top of all the details, making decisions in a timely fashion, watching our beloved HDTV in bed (while eating Stephen Colbert’s AmeriCone Dream™), “adult” beverages, support from family and friends and envisioning the project when it is finally complete.

We have stairs!

I was on the mobile with my brother, Kenny, when I got my first glimpse—and started taking pictures with the phone!

Since I couldn’t find the downstairs lights (they were probably removed as part of the electrical demolition taking place this week), I used two flashlights to help with illumination.

Now instead of a straight, steep shot down, we have an “L-shaped” staircase uniting the main and lower levels. There are 10 steps, a landing that will also take us to the utility room, and then five steps into the walk-out basement. The last step is, however, a doozie as we are raising the floor level to bring us above the concrete slab. Yes, we will be adding insulation. (I feel cozy just thinking about it.)

This means access to the laundry room. Why just this weekend I finally took my Mother’s advice and went to the wash-n-fold, glad I could throw money ($43) at the lack-of-utility-room-access-causing-an-underwear-crisis situation.

I will admit it: When Matt and I were looking for places to cut costs, we had considered building these stairs ourselves. Luckily, we got over that insane notion and left the project to the professionals.

+ + +

Epilogue: 9:23 p.m.

When Matt got home, he took one look at the stairs and pointed out the obvious flaw: the landing bypasses the utility room. Hmmm...

He tried to prepare me, but…

While I was off at my company’s Atlanta office, spending two days with my wonderful colleagues, my valiant husband continued to manage the renovation.

We reached a critical moment in our now two-year-plus project...

The 20 hated skylights were gone, which meant the roof over the great room was, too. And so was the back wall where the bump-out and screened porch would go.

It was nearing midnight on Friday because the 5 p.m. flight home was, of course, delayed. (I got to fully experience coach while sitting on the runway in the middle seat.)

Pulling into our parking area, my headlights illuminated the debris on the roof, distracting me. I almost crashed into the dumpster. Our neighbors had obviously decided that it was OK to rob us by illegally dumping their crap in our expensive receptacle. This resulted in construction waste accumulating all over our property—inside and out. Yes, I was cranky and annoyed. (Lucky for them, I was too tired to carry out bloody vengeance.)

Once inside, I heard the rustle of plastic. I felt the wind. It was like being in a haunted house. Our great room was hidden behind a barrier. I had just enough space to make it to the bedroom. (It was exciting, in a disorienting sort of way.)

The next morning, Matt woke me up just before 8 a.m. because Alex Schiavone’s crew, led by Chico, was ready to get to work. We fled. (I still hadn’t seen much more of the house than the photos Matt e-mailed on Friday morning.)

The forecast called for blue skies. It rained for the first half of the day. That night—like the one before and after—was sleepless. The house was cold and the sounds unfamiliar. I kept dreaming our local raccoon was inside and getting into mischief. I’d awake, expecting to see his cute, masked face looking up at me from the foot of the bed. (The only creature stirring ended up being Matt, who couldn't sleep, either.)

Then the rain woke me up. There was a leak in the blue-tarped roof and the water poured in at the only place we truly wanted to protect: the fireplace mantle we designed. (It seems to have survived.)

Thankfully, Jean was kind enough to have a birthday, so we got to spend time celebrating with her. And our “Aunt” Theresa invited us over for Sunday dinner. It was nice to be away from the construction chaos!

Top deck is delightful

Once they had completed the lower deck, the crew put up scaffolding and began framing the top deck, including the bump-out to expand the living area. With the top deck in place—and running the length of the house—the house now seems better proportioned.

In some light, the decking material is grey; in others the beige undertones are more prominent. In all light, the top deck is beautifully neutral. When viewed from the couch, the lake seems to begin where the deck ends.

The completed deck greeted us on our return from Seattle/Vancouver, and we immediately toured it in moonlight. This was invigorating, given the height of the structure and lack of railings. We were on it again this morning, too, despite the damp weather thanks to a tropical storm and Hurricane Kyle.

The deck design by our (second) architect had some fantasy-land elements. For example, he designed the deck above-and-beyond code requirements. Instead, we went with the typical 6”x6” posts and off-the-shelf brackets. The Todd also specified a cable tie bracing system for the deck that no one—including him—could figure out where to purchase. We’ll be going with typical lumber here, too.

And so in the heavy fog, we cavorted on the deck this morning, feeling happy and lucky to have so much outdoor living space. Turns out we aren’t the only ones who like our new deck, as evidenced by the paw prints left by Waschbär, our neighborhood raccoon.

Lovin’ the lower deck

While we were off in Seattle and Vancouver, celebrating 12 marvelous years of marriage, Steve Wasko’s team was working.

After bringing down the dangerous deck, the team hand-dug huge holes for proper supports for the double-decker deck.

Steve suggested upgrading our decking, from regular TimberTech® TwinFinish® Plank in grey (“brushed” side up) to the version of the same product with the CONCEALoc™ Fasteners, for a hole-free surface.

Great call, Steve!

The crew finished the lower deck surface, complete with a step up to the area that will house the hot tub. In celebration, we took careful measurements and ordered the Cable Railing on Thursday.

Freakin’ out

“Will I freak out,” I asked while opening my eyes on Wednesday morning?

“When I saw it yesterday, I went completely mental,” Matt replied.

When Tiffiny, our yoga instructor, saw it on Wednesday evening, she replied: “How bizarre!”

The deck was gone and it was a long way down.

The Wasko crew had planned to take the deck down in sections. It apparently gave no resistance. Seeing the pock-marked poles that once held up the decking was particularly unnerving.

Good riddance to bad structures!

Improvements—and costs—continue downstairs

On Wednesday, August 27, Matt and I got to say “hello” to foreman Miguel and worker Jorge, as well as meet Jan. We were discussing with Steve Wasko the additional work needed to shore up the bathroom area under our bedroom. Steve explained in Tuesday’s e-mail, “The sheetrock was removed today and there are some things that need to be addressed, which were not in the Engineer’s report.”

Once again, the structure was less sound than expected, adding another two grand to the project cost. In addition, Steve wants to see whether it is possible to lower the floor so we won’t need three steps to go up from the walk-out basement to the bathroom. This will require removing soil from the crawl space.

As Matt looked around that room yesterday, he re-envisioned the design, removing the side window and putting the sink in that spot, making the lake-facing window larger and swapping the placement of the shower and toilet. Much better.

The biggest improvement of the week is the exit. Before, we had to walk down a step to open the back door and then walk down another step once the door was open. It felt like falling out of the house. With the wonders of concrete and craftsmanship, this odd hole is filled, making a smooth transition from the floor to the door. We now step down to a couple sets of cinderblocks and onto the patio. The new deck, once installed, will make exiting better still.

The crew also put the old stairs back in place inside, making it easier to get to the utility room to do laundry.

A sign of support

“It is like getting a new house from the inside out,” Matt said on Monday after we inspected the crew’s progress.

We never expected to be the kind of people who would allow a firm to advertise in front of our home, but the Wasko crew has proven themselves worthy. We’re proud to let our neighbors know what an awesome team we’ve hired.

Steve Wasko noted on Thursday that he, foreman Miguel and the rest of the crew are getting close to completing the major repairs identified by Harry’s structural engineering report, needing another week or so in the walkout basement before moving on to the bathroom area under our bedroom.

The team made more holes, this time in the utility room, and put in more lally columns—saving for me the tree trunk beams they had removed. They also pulled out the cheap PVC windows, shored up the structure and then put them back in. In addition, the team continued “sistering” the joists holding up the floor above, adding new framing to the existing crazy quilt.

New windows are on the way. On August 14 we met with Alex, Steve’s partner, to go over the project and write a big check so he could order supplies. We learned that his firm, Adriatic (which works with his father’s firm, Schiavone & Sons), also does commercial work, including Southern Hospitality, a restaurant for Justin Timberlake (American pop singer-songwriter, record producer, dancer, actor and participant in a notorious “wardrobe malfunction”) that opened last summer.

I know it is too early to say (and I call feel all of you who have been through a renovation are thinking: Just wait for the inevitable horrors ahead), but it feels to me like we’ve hired a construction Dream Team. They listen, care, show up, make progress and maintain an orderly work site.

Garden rocks and other treasures

Steve Wasko, our builder, knew that I wanted the crew to save any interesting rocks they found on our site. Granted, we didn’t anticipate a pile of boulders to be located inside the house…

I was pleased and touched that they separated the nice rocks from the concrete chunks and rubble, interpreting their efforts as a clear example of caring about our needs and wishes. Matt imagined them all rejoicing because my request meant they didn’t have to move the heavy objects too far from the exit; the concrete and other waste needs to be carried up the steps and disposed of off site.

The crew also put aside two brown bottles they found while making way for the structural cinder block walls in the walk-out basement.

The stamp on both reads: “Federal law forbids sale or reuse of this bottle,” which according to a bottle dating site indicates they are machine-made liquor bottles sold in the U.S. between 1935 and 1964. We guess that the first addition was put on this house during the late 50s, and the time period for these bottles provides further confirmation.

The bottom of the rectangular bottle says:

3

Bloch Brothers (Distillers) LTD
Glasgow Scotland
A.G.W.

The Scotland Whisky and Distilleries site explained: “The Bloch brothers sold both distilleries to Hiram Walker in 1954.”

The round 4/5 quart bottle had something in common aside from contents. The bottom of the bottle reads:

Bottled by Hiram Walker & Sons
Made in Canada
Walkerville

(In 1856, the American whiskey mogul himself developed
this company town in Ontario; think “Canadian Club.”)

Canada

11 l ◊ • 4

Limited Bottle

Matt and I immediately added these treasures to our Casa de Roo museum and wondered whether the previous owner of this home-made house had a secret drinking problem that necessitated hiding his empties.

Nine days of progress

There are times a picture is not worth a thousand words. This is one of those times. The improvements to the walk-out basement have been dramatic to see first-hand, yet none of my snapshots properly convey the progress of the first two weeks of work. (The crew is on hiatus from yesterday through next Friday.)

Removing the steps on August 4 uncovered a set of masonry stairs that seemed to once have been outdoors (and added another wrinkle to accessing the laundry area).

The interior wall on the south side of the house now benefits from cinderblock support that was done in such a workmanlike manner it is almost a shame to cover it up. Lumber framing is going in above, replacing the odd assortment of scrap wood. Our walk-out basement is being transformed into a real room—one with the structural integrity to hold up the rest of the house.

When Matt and I did the downstairs demolition, the air quality immediately improved—yet the problems our efforts revealed took our breath away. These issues are also taking more of our money away. The builder just discussed with Matt the need to do more fixes than we originally thought. There goes another two grand…

We’re convinced it will be worth it in the end. Heck, it already feels worth it!

Lally columns

The Wasko construction crew has already made tangible progress on the structural work in the walk-out basement. We passed our first inspection on July 29, enabling the crew to pour QUIKRETE® 5000 Concrete Mix into the two large holes they made the day before.

In went the lally columns and the floor of the great room above already feels stiffer.

We hired a builder!

On Saturday, May 31, we wrote our first check that will pay for something other than more pieces of paper. We handed $5,000 over to Wasko Construction, LLC, the official builder for Casa de Roo!

It was with immense glee that I shook hands with Stephen Wasko and Alex Schiavone to seal the deal! Permit process permitting, we believe the project can officially begin in July.

This big step was preceded by scores of other steps. Here is a trip down memory lane:

2006

• Coming up with a Manifesto for the project, titled, “Everywhere you look, Beauty!”
  
• Looking for and interviewing architects. (Process beings in February)
  
• Hiring Lakeland Surveying, Inc. to provide a topographical survey. I pick it up with my brother, STo, who is visiting from Ohio. For well over a year, this drawing represents the only value Matt and I receive for money spent on our dream house project. (Drawing dated July 12)


• Writing the first retainer check to the selected architecture firm. (September 11, 2006)
  
• Getting “as built” drawings of our home as it currently stands.

2007

• Drafting, drawing and dreaming, only to find the design is more than double our budget.


• Lopping features off of the house.


• Sending the revised design out for bidding…


• Learning the project is still more than double. (Thus the more elaborate design must have been at least triple our budget.) We also learn from the builders who are bidding that the direction the architecture firm is sending the project is rife with impracticality!


• Taking matters into our own hands by redesigning the house ourselves, using Photoshop.

January 2008

• Discussing the scaled-back design with “Local Guy,” the builder we were pretty sure we’d hire; his estimate is still tens of thousands of dollars over budget—and missing key elements (like carpeting) that make a house a home. (January 11).


• Explaining the project to Steve Wasko and Alex Schiavone, who lack that “deer in headlights” look other contractors and builders seem to exhibit when they see our site. They offer some interesting ideas and practical advice. (January 18)

February 2008

• Losing debt-spending power thanks to America’s credit crunch because the bank has dramatically reduced our HELOC. (February 1)


• Realizing I was seduced by my own dream house Manifesto—and used it to seduce others into seeing my vision (some would say sharing my hallucinations). It was a case of champagne dreams and caviar wishes—on a Krogh’s Brew Pub budget. I learn to embrace the ranch house vernacular.


• Interviewing a replacement architect. (February 4)


• Meeting with Dan Keller of George J. Keller and Sons. He brings samples of roofing, siding and decks, promising: “We can do it all for you.” (February 22)

March 2008

• Hiring Todd Lendt to provide drawings for Casa de Roo. We explain to The Todd that because I follow the principle of, “that which isn't forbidden is allowed,” part of his job is to say “no” to what Matt calls my “hair-brained schemes.” (March 1, 2008)


• Sending a request for bid with a partial set of close-to-final drawings, along with our list of expectations, to “Local Guy,” Keller and Wasko. (March 14)


• Renting a dumpster enables us to begin doing demolition ourselves. (March 15)


• Having only one builder meet our March 24 deadline for bids: Wasko. (March 22)


• Showing The Todd some of our structural concerns; he believes we should hire a structural engineer, which we agree to do following further demolition. (March 28)


• Interviewing Ali (AKA, “The Chem”), a potential builder recommended to us by the father of a friend. We give him an opportunity to bid. (March 29)

April 2008

• Welcoming arrival of the second dumpster. (April 4)


• Showing foundation issues we’ve uncovered to Wasko; Steve suggests we hire a structural engineer and recommends Harry Braich of Apex Group, Inc. (April 4)


• Getting final drawings from The Todd. (April 12)


• Dispersing drawings to Keller, Wasko, The Chem and Local Guy for bidding; also sending a copy to Harry. (April 14)


• Having Harry do first round of structural inspections. (April 17)


• Having Harry do another, more in-depth round of inspections to our home, resulting in the Structural Engineering Report. (April 22)


• Reviewing revised bid from Wasko, which doesn’t include structural work. It is several thousands of dollars more than what we had hoped to spend, but not totally out of the question. (April 26)


• Reviewing estimate from Keller. It lists out all the work to be performed, but doesn’t have a cost breakdown. (Structural issues aren’t included.) We feel confident that his firm would do a good job, and we like Dan; however, the price comes in at about $65,000 above what we had hoped to spend. (April 30).

May 2008

• Discussing the bid from Local Guy, while showing him the work we’d done in terms of demolition. His bid includes cost breakdowns and allowances. The cost, however, is about $115,000 more than what we hoped to spend for the stripped down version of our plans, and that is before he addresses structural issues. The price seemed to be jacked up to cover the “pain and suffering” he believes our site causes, to which we have often remarked (behind his back, of course): “Quit your whining Local Guy.” Even though I like and trust the guy, his firm is not getting the job. I feel strangely sad. (May 2)


• Reviewing the structural bid from Wasko confirms that our problems will require about $25,000 to fix, a price higher than but not that grossly out of line with Harry’s estimate. (May 7)


• Bidding au revoir to The Chem. Since meeting him, he disappeared more than once, making seemingly unscheduled but emergency trips to Florida. He has no business card. While his price on the May 6 bid is low, we wonder: At what cost? For example, his proposal only provides numbers covering labor; he wants us to buy all materials. We’d seen enough episodes of Holmes on Homes to know this isn’t the builder for us. (Mid-May)


• Meeting between Wasko and Matt is very productive. (May 16)


• Insulting our taste seems to be the way Helen thinks she is going to gain us a client. Um, let me back up a moment. I met a guy at a party who had a wife who knew a contractor who installed metal roofs. Seemed like a good contact for us to have. Helen showed up with the potential roofer for a meeting with Matt. Not only was her presence in our home unexpected, her opinions about the décor choices for our home were uninvited.
  
  The way Matt tells it, she made known that our color choices were inappropriate for how she felt we should live. Although our home is currently various shades of purple, she suggested we should be featuring rust. Note: We are not a fan of this color family. We will be installing a standing seam metal roof. She thought this was the wrong approach. Why not Mediterranean-style tiles that are actually made of metal? Note: We don’t like one building material impersonating another. If you are not made of clay, don’t pretend to be. If you are composite decking, don’t sport a wood grain. We are not building a faux château. Matt explained our design would continue to be “cozy modern.” She disagreed with this choice. Meanwhile, her roofing contact failed to bring product samples. Will we be hiring this pair? No, we will not. Especially since they never followed up. (May 16)


• Hiring Wasko for both the structural and renovation work, which ought to make both phases of the project come together seamlessly. Part of reducing costs involves Matt and I doing some of the work ourselves. We are ready to roll up our sleeves! (May 31)