Fixing up the Farmhouse, Part II

Unfinished Garage Walls, no insulation, nor walls really

I had a great handyman in Fair Oaks, named Handyman Jim. And now, I have an equally wonderful handyman here in Sequim, and his name is also Jim. I will refer to him as Handyman Jim II for short. Jim II was recommended to me by Diane and Judy, the cousin and aunt of my friend Barbara. Diane & Judy met Jim II when they hired him to remodeling a bathroom. They were totally impressed with Jim II and the work he did for them. I have a ton of tasks for him to do. We started off with his working on my garage.

Insulation in place

The drywall installed and note one of two electric sockets, added for 'moi' convenience.

All the nails & seams spackled & readied for painting

Nice coat of 'Cameo White' paint

Yeah, yeah, not exactly the completion of the Statue of Liberty, but I'm sooo stoked by seeing the work getting done. So now the garage should stay at a temperature that won't freeze me come winter when I launder my skivvies & such.












I've long dreamed of a pretty & practical laundry area, looking perhaps something as charming and pretty as the perfectly twee laundry room on the right here:







Yes, who am I kidding. Here, below, is the starting point of my dream laundry area on the north side of my garage.

Yeah... loads of electrical wiring, styrofoam water pipes and ugly old water heater

Whomever put in the laundry area here gave not a jot of care to the placement of the water pipes (seen here encased in yellowing styrofoam), nor to the criss-crossing electric conduits that were about as high up on the walls as you could get them. WHY? I mean WHY put electric conduits so freakn' high? I mean, WTF!?

So Handyman Jim II's task was to lower the pipes and conduits and to make the dryer vent a straight line shot to the vent, instead of that sharp right turn.

Here is transitional work.

First up peeling the wall back to reveal the original wooden farm house walls, but really to access the various pipes and thingamajigs... uh... Jim II told me what the stripping was for but I done fergits.

AH HA!  The wall panel replaced and the uggy, yellowing, styrofoam pipes are replaced. The water lines now run a straight line over to the the future spots for the washing machine.

The water heater is probably on its last legs, as was my last water heater when I'd moved into the house. Or, like that last water heater, it might just last another 23 years.  Fingers crossed, right?

TADA!

Yeah, I know, not ready for Sunset Magazine, but it's on the way. First note the wall above the washer & dryer are now free of styrofoam and electrical crap, and probably awaiting a coat of paint, as soon as I decide on a color scheme. There sits an adorable new sink in the center, with a cool spigot thingie. Both newly acquired washer and dryer are atop dollies, so they can be rolled forward and back to retrieve dropped sponges or skivvies. The uggy old water heater is still obvious. It is slated to be walled off so you know, give it time. And no shelving or cabinets as yet, but that is on the 'to do' list. Happy for now... but loads more work to go.

Fixing Up the Farmhouse, Part I

There's an old, 1980s movie, The Money Pit. It starred Shelly Long and Tom Hanks, and was about a couple who purchased an old house, sunk all their money into trying to get the house fit to live in. I never saw that movie, but I don't have to see it. I've lived it. Twice.

I'm not saying I have spent every dime I have on the 3 houses I've owned, but I've learned that buying an old house, most of the time - means buying problems you didn't realized existed. It also means buying problems that no one else sees as 'problems', other than yourself.

As much as I loved my Fair Oaks home, I mostly refused to spend $$ on it, unless whatever was wrong seemed super urgent to me. I spent a lot of $$ on that cute old 1950s home, but only to make myself happy with it, nothing done to impress the neighbors so-to-speak.

So when I bought my adorable bit of Sequim property, I was well aware there would be 'things' about the 1947 farmhouse that were not emergencies, to anyone other than myself. I was right. DAMNITALLTOHELL, right?  So here's the quick run down of where some the $$ earned from selling my Fair Oaks home of 23 years went.


WTF:  Yes, wtf, indeed. Every room in the house, and one of its closets had one of these saucer-sized thingies on it, for a total of 5 'whats-its' for the entire house.

The house inspector told me they were state-of-the-art, 1940 & 50s era, air fresheners.  The white disks tunneled through the wall, to a small vent on the house exterior. Each disk has a cord, that pulled, rotated an inner foam disk  presumably sucking in outside air, through the scented (?) filter, to refresh the inside house air. Not even one of the 5 thingies was in working order. I made an immediate mental note, "If I get this house, the fancy schmansy air fresheners will be the first to go."  True to my word, as soon as I got the house, one by one, I pried every freakn' damned disk from the walls, revealing... gaping holes.

You can see on the right, the disk holes, the and the vent on the outside house siding. You can also see the yellow fiberglass insulation inside the wall.

To remove the holes, I insulation-foam filled the vents (to stop anything from crawling into the interior walls) and stuffed the rest of the hole with fiber insulation. The last step was to just slap on a wall patch, & spackle over the hole. The spackled holes were then painted over and voila! Weird thingies GONE. Bonus: I was my own labor pool, so the total cost, to replace all five ugly thingies, was under $25.

Interior Paint:  Previous farmhouse owners decided the house required a paint job. The painting job was so 'slap dash' that nothing was taped over or covered or removed for the painting. If something was in the way, it got painted. Honestly, six year olds with ADHD  could have done a better paint job, but I digress.

I have no clue what the color previous to the gold walls was, or why a LOUD & HOT shade of... uh... 'butterscotch' was selected. I crudely referred to the paint color as 'Mariachi Gold' because it made the farmhouse look like the inside of a Mexican Restaurant (forgive my sarcasm my Hispanic brothers & sisters).

Enough whining, here is the 'We gotta sell this house' paint job pictured below. Bright enough there for you Skippy? See what I mean about it not being particularly awful to anyone but myself?  Oh, and note the white 'air freshener' disk to the right of the central window.

Living Room in Butterscotch

And below is the living room repainted in a color that doesn't make me break out in a sweat just looking at it.

Living Room repainted in a hue that soothes my soul

 The overall interior painting happened over about 3 weeks. It's lucky only the kitchen, living room and upstairs hallway needed painting, and one upstairs room only needed painting on one of its four walls. My former housemate Curt was hired on to paint the rest. The entire house feels cheerier and cooler with its newly painted interior.

Kitchen/Dining area, half way through transition from Butterscotch to 'Cameo White'

 

 

Flooring: With the house interior in soul soothing colors, next up was a larger job - flooring. I have seriously begun to miss the hardwood floors in my old Fair Oaks home. If only I could have brought them along, right? After deciding on a flooring budget, I then proceeded to blowing it 3 ways from Sunday. Oh hush! I bet you've blown up a budget yourself once or thrice.

The flooring company, did a great job... ok except for the stuff they effed up, but I'll get to that.

This entry area photo, shows both the ugly, cheap, 'dried blood' colored laminate floor, and the v. new, but - in my eyes - uggy, cheap carpeting. Yeah... I just have a thing about carpets - I hate them. And that blood red laminate made me wonder if an axe murderer ever lived here.




I informed the flooring company I would be away for a week. They told me the flooring would be done by my return. After leaving, I got a call telling me the floor materials would be delayed so nothing would be even started by my return.

So when I drove back home from California, backing into the garage I had to suddenly skid to a sudden halt - so as not to run into my toilet! The toilet was dead center in the garage because flooring was currently being installed in the downstairs bath, and overall, the flooring project for the big house was about 90% complete.  Yippy Skip... uh... well, not quite 'yippy skippy'.

The installer 'in charge' was a kid that did his own thing, instead of, you know, reading the effing instructions his bosses gave him?  

Instructions: Cottage is of the first priority, and must be completed ASAP. Rip out carpeting in front room and replace with new laminate. Leave rear of cottage (bedroom) alone. 

So, what did the millennial do? The opposite. He ripped out the back room laminate, and totally ignoring the cottage's front room. ARRRGGHHH!

So that was this topsy turvey mess I arrived at on my return from California.

The errors caused a lot of headache (for me) and as the old laminate could not be put back in. So the kid's error added to my expenses as I paid for the unasked for additional flooring, though I did not pay for the labor. Sing this to the tune of 'Bye Bye Birdie':

  ♫Bye bye Budget! Why did you have to blow?♪

All whinging aside, the flooring in both buildings is now complete and, for my tastes, beautiful.




Back at the big house, the upstairs hall, showing pre-laminate, old carpeting, and half done paint job.

The upstairs hall showing new flooring 'Seasoned Oak' (without even a hint of old dried blood) and with completed paint job .

That is nearly the whole shebang! Newly painted walls that don't make me want to crawl into a hole to digest my enchiladas, and a dirth of carpeting to suck up dust to aggravate one's allergies. Can hardly believe so much work on the new property happened so relatively quickly (considering how freakn' long it took to get the place in and out of escrow. But wait folks, more to follow!