Monday, November 23, 2015

All reno’d out

Yesterday, after two and a half months living at my sister’s, I moved back into chez moi.

My sister and her husband could not be more generous and gracious hosts. Kath is a fabulous cook, Rick has a fabulous wine cellar, they have a beautiful home, they’re terrific company. What’s not to like?

The answer, of course, is nothing. Other than that I was beginning to feel like Sheridan Whiteside, The Man Who Came to Dinner. And never left. (That Sheridan Whiteside.)

So yesterday, with what I believe is the end in sight, I returned home.

With Kath’s help, we have my bedroom pretty much knocked into shape. Sure, my clothing is either in suitcases or Fibber McGee’d into my closets. I left home in summer weather, I’m returning past the date when I would have done the closet and dresser swap on summer-winter clothing. I’ll get to it at some point. Meanwhile, clothing is pretty much haphazardly stuffed wherever.

I’m good on the bathroom end, if you consider no shower doors, partial lighting, no vanity (main bath), no mirror (guest bath) “good”. Still, the toilets flush and the water runs hot and cold.

My den is in relatively good shape. Now I just have to figure out how to figure out the TV situation. Buying one would, I suppose. This was my husband’s department. Where’s Diggy when I need him? (As if I needed another reason to miss him. Oh, boo-hoo.)

The downstairs hall has way too much construction junk in it.

The light fixture in my office is dangling.:

The living room is a full blown disaster. New and old furniture remains shrouded. Construction gear too much in evidence.

No registers on the heating vents. Yet.

And then there’s the track lighting in the kitchen.

It was looking great. Then it flickered. Then it died.

This was Saturday evening.

I texted my GC. He told me to make sure the light switch was off.

He called the electrician, who texted me to call him. Which I did. He told me to make sure the light switch was off.

Now that is something you don’t have to tell me twice.

The electric crisis should be resolved today.

Most of what needs doing is small stuff and clean up.

So far, I’m loving it. Looking forward to settling in.

Meanwhile, I’ve learned plenty, including that olive oil and salt removed scratches from furniture. (Thanks, Kath.)

In another couple of weeks, everything on the punch list should be punched out. My old painted bookcases will have received yet another coat of paint. I’ll have gotten a couple of pots and pans to use on my new induction cooktop.

Reno, sweet reno. Home, sweet home.

Feeling a bit mixed-emotional.

Yes, everything is beautiful. But it’s going to be a lot different than the place where Jim and I lived for more than 20 years. (Did I all ready say Oh, boo-hoo? Life really does go one.. Just a bit sadly…)


Meanwhile, Pink Slip is taking a mini break. The posts for Tuesday and Wednesday will be my version of tweets. (I.e., posts under 140 characters.)

Back by Thursday. That’s assuming I can get the cable hooked up…

God, this is exhausting. You’d think I was the one swinging the hammer.

No comments: