In the front hall, the plywood is down in preparation for the new porcelain tile that will be installed later:
(This photo gives you a sense of the wall colour, too, I think.)
There's a story about this doorway. This is our front entry. As you can see, in 1956, having a generous "foyer" was clearly not a priority. This little entry is 6' x6' (including the closet), and it's separated from the rest of the first floor by a door (wooden, still finished in 1956 yellow varnish). The contractor, who is the most adorable man, really wants me to toss that door in the garbage. "It will look so much nicer if it's all just open," he said. He told his associate to put the door in the yard and to give him a week to convince me it has to go.
The thing is, I have three dogs, and that door is the salvation of anyone who arrives at my house. If I get rid of that door, I might as well just put a "Don't even bother ringing this bell" sign on my door since NO ONE (apart from friends who are used to similar cacophonous greetings from their own pack of dogs) will actually want me to open the door once they've heard the din that ensues after they push the doorbell. The door gives six feet of "whew!" space to anyone brave enough to enter my house. Think of it as being like an airlock, providing an opportunity for the body to acclimate before entering an entirely new and somewhat overwhelming ecosphere.
Having said that, it does look nice without the door there . . . .
My contractor also advocated for disposing of the overgrown yew by the front deck (it was in the dumpster on Day 1, wasn't it?), the ceiling fixture in the kitchen (I'm with him on that one), my 1970s doorbell (gone), and the ceiling fan in the dining room (but . . . but . . . I like having a fan in the dining room) and called me downstairs this afternoon to tell me, "Any time you want to replace this front door, let me know." (There's nothing wrong with it, really; it's a perfectly fine steel door. It just needs some new weather stripping . . . and some new vinyl around its glass insert . . . and a good wash . . . .) Nothing like having a long-time contractor with a definite sense of style around to point out your decorating flaws and the areas in which you are behind the times.
Apart from finishing the painting, the tasks for today (which ended up being a short day for them, much to the relief of my dogs) were putting in a new exhaust pipe for the range hood and beginning the reparation of some of the holes in the drywall.
Wait -- a new exhaust pipe for the range hood? Hold it -- there's already a vent for the hood. I've seen it -- it goes through my wall and opens into my carport. Turns out, however, that it's not in a good place -- not high enough and not above the spot where the stove will now sit.
Well, apparently no sooner said than done. There's now a NEW vent, and sadly I wasn't there to see how the new hole was made through the brick of the house. Ray was here, but he wasn't watching, so I guess their secret is safe for now:
Today the hardwood man came by for a look and to schedule his tour of duty here, which should begin a week from Monday.
This coming Monday, "the drywall guy" takes over to work his magic. I want to SEE that, as I think drywall guys are amazing. He will finish all the patching, build the "boxes" around the ductwork in the dining room, and sand everything. Once that's all done, the kitchen/dining room will be ready for painting -- and it will look more like an actual room in a house.
So far, we're on schedule and may even finish early (depending on the availability of the actual KITCHEN, of course!). And Ray and I agreed (over our Swiss Chalet dinner) that week 1 really wasn't too bad at all.
I realize, of course, that there's a distinct possibility most people don't find week 1 all that bad, but humour me on this one, okay?
No comments:
Post a Comment