A Jaunty Little Blog

Oh, all you young dudes,

Cripes. You remember back to 1949, don’t you? The war was won, but there was a severe carpenter’s level shortage. Remember? As evidence, there’s not a single level, plumb, or square wall in this entire room. I’ve spent way too much time adding layers and layers to bring the joint into some semblance of plumb.

If nothing else, it’s gonna be warm in there…

…which makes sense, considering that it’s starting to look like a Swedish sauna. It’s not, of course. Who can afford the steam?

And as far as the trim goes, I’m going to need a lot of shims. A lot.

– bob

Hello Ducks!

I missed a couple day’s worth of posts, but work on the tiny bathroom has gone apace. Naturally, the pace has been slow. If I’ve learned anything here, it’s that despite the diminutive size, this job has involved as much work (if not material) as a larger room. It’s just harder to move around.

Thankfully, these pipes didn’t leak.

…but these did. The elbows on either side of the diverter had manufacturing flaws and had to be removed. Shouldn’t be a problem, you might say. Just shut off the water. It’d be easy if the water shutoff to the house actually shut off fully. Instead, there’s a procedure to follow: shut the valve as tight as it’ll go, open the hose valves around the house to relieve the pressure, open the upstairs sink valve to drain the upstairs. To test the new plumbing, the procedure is reversed. To deal with the leak, the procedure is repeated. When unlikely problems such as manufacturing defects crop up, you get to do this four times or so.

With the water problems solved, the rest of the build could proceed. Don’t be fooled. Fully encapsulated batts of insulation are still mighty itchy.

While it wasn’t quite Gustav, We had our own deluge up here yesterday. Work stopped while we stared at the water and hail pounding my little house. It’s Southern California, after all. These things don’t happen very often.

Now that the walls are going up, it’s starting to look like Dad and I are making progress. It’s about time, since my remodeling vacation is almost over.

Since the new shower stall takes up more room than the old mold-box, all of the light switches had to move into the hallway. Certainly this will lead to hijinks. I do not approve of these sort of shenanigans. Not at all. It won’t be the least bit funny to shut off the lights while somebody who isn’t me is in there.

– bob

Friends,

It’s about time to finally get this out of the gate, no? Here are some shots taken today that really don’t represent what went on at the Lodge.

What? The pipes have gone away. But where?

Down there? “Big whoop,” I hear you say. Not so fast, slappy. It ain’t that easy to get there, you know…

Spiders. I hate spiders.

– bob

Friends,

Here’s an example of why the insides of the bathroom had to go…

Well yeah, and this…

And what’s more…

But most of all, this was the worst…

So really, it all had to go. Really.

We’re almost done tearing things apart. Maybe we’ll start putting things back together on Monday. But first…

We’re gonna need a bigger dumpster.

– bob

Friends,

Last night’s strike mission to The Home Depot was supposed to be surgical. After all, last time I checked, my Dad and I are guys and guys don’t shop. They acquire—quickly. I knew that I wanted the least cheap and junky Chinese-made pre-fab shower stall, and I knew that every Home Depot I’d ever visited had at least one in stock. The floor model at Dad’s local warehouse even had a sign that said in 1,000-point type “In-Stock” so what could possibly go wrong? Well, there was no product number on the display, so the helpful but red-faced employee simply made one up to search his inventory. “We have two!” he reported.

Some day, when you get the chance, just walk around a big box home improvement store while looking upwards. I don’t think I’ve ever been as impressed by the extraordinary amount of merchandise on the very top shelves. Not my shower stall, of course, but a lot of other stuff that would be difficult for the owner of a fevered mind to find time to catalog, much less the fine staff at Home Depot.

Captain Heat Stroke and I were having no luck, so he called over a supervisor. “Wow, you guys missed it. What you’re looking for is right here on the bottom shelf,” he claimed. I was incredulous, but willing to entertain his spontaneous acid flashback. “Well, that’s not very similar to the display model I’m looking for, is it?” I asked. “It’s round!” “But it’s plastic and vinyl, not glass and stainless steel. That’s a pretty big difference. Plus…” “But,” he insisted, “you’re looking for this part number, right?” “Nope, I’m looking for this,” pointing to the display. “Oh, we don’t have any of those,” he said, ripping down the “In-Stock” sign. And adding insult, “sorry partner.” Screw you, Tex.

An hour and a half wasted. Off to the next Home Depot twenty mile away, the one that I had actually visited. The box was on the shelf, but Dad took the time to read the sign on the display. “Doors, rails, and pan included. Works with wall kit…” What? No walls? They’re extra?

The wall kit is extra and not included and nearly doubles the price of a shower. Oh, the walls are molded vinyl. Made in China. Weren’t we promised lower prices if things were made there instead of here? For these prices, I hope the slave laborers get an extra fish head in their breakfast porridge tomorrow. Yikes.

More reckless spending later today, with a picture-laden post once I unpack. Then some establishment shots to bring into crisp focus why the bathroom needs an overhaul in the first place followed by demolition. It’s the beginning of a week-long series and you didn’t even see it coming! I hope you both enjoy it.

– bob