The Crowbar and the story of the Octopus in the wall

Yes this week finds us with another intriguing title and yet another story to be told.


Growing up with a Dad who could put together a broken muffler with a soda can and who could begin with an idea of a sun porch and embark on a yearlong adventure by building a porch with a cinder block and concrete foundation learning as he went has left a lasting impression on me.

With each wall that comes down and every header that is raised I cannot help to think about what my father would say. This week found us walking down memory lane while the demo team encountered the sea creature behind the wall -- The Octopus of Wakefield Drive.

Flashback 12 years ago. . .

As new home owners with little more than a hammer, screwdriver and determination to fix up our "new" house we ventured into the idea that we could save that much needed mortgage money by doing small projects ourselves. Sure we scraped wallpaper off of the walls and painted but that required very little skill to be passable. I am sure the gauges we left from over eager scraping and the not so neat trim that sports the drips and runs from a shaky paintbrush are noticeable they have no bearing on the structural soundness or the basic functioning of our house.

"Let's upgrade our electrical service . . ."

With a "what the hell are we doing" and more bravado than we should have we enter the electrifying world of Romex and Circuit Breakers. In the back of my mind the phrase written on every electrical item warning the person using it that under no certain circumstances should they open or touch the mystical contents or a fate worse than death or death itself may occur. So my brother the lineman with Peco helps by doing the extremely dangerous stuff as I shield my eyes as he handles the main feed to our house and installs the new 200 amp panel.

With our little screwdriver and hammer we discover that we do not have the proper tools to rewire the aging wiring in the house. But rather than driving to Home Depot and purchasing tools we venture to the tool emporium also known as my Father's basement. Dad had retired due to health concerns and was eager to lend a helping hand. As he maneuvered among the shelves and drawers he gathered items that at first seemed out of place to novices like Scott and I. Fishing tackle box. 30ft length of wire. The Wonderbar Crowbar. Flashlight. Pretty Red Electrical Tape. Hammer drill. Hole Drill. And the most important tool determination.

We headed back with Dad and the buffet of tools and sundries and began to find the house's sweet spot.

We are sure the original architect that designed these homes 60 years ago had some training in that our house is still standing but we certainly cannot understand the placement of the walls.

We started on the 2nd floor looking for a wall that would line up with a wall on the 1st floor in order to fish a line through. Dad began inconspicuously in the closet. Bang, Bang, Bang. The wonderbar punctured the wall inside the closet. Drill, Drill, Drill. These sounds were followed by a few four letter words and then a new spot was selected for the next Bang, Bang, Bang, Drill, Drill, Drill. Fearing that my home would end up like a plastered piece of Swiss cheese I prayed to the Patron Saint of Home Improvement. As my Father feed the wire with the lead fishing sinker into the wall Scott and I began to play Marco - Polo on the first floor as the sinker tapped from inside the ceiling as we walked from room to room listening for the little sound above our heads. We found the spot.

Imagine a little 3 inch hole that lines up from the 2nd. Floor to the 1st Floor and down to the basement. This little space would be where we would feed lines up to the 2nd Floor. Like trying to put on a pair of jeans that are too tight we pull and push 5 Romex Lines, 1 COAX, 1 Phone Line and 1 wire leader into the hole from Attic to Basement. This 8 line Octopus has been hidden in the wall for 10 years.

It has not been silent for 10 years as we always know it is there especially when watching the TBS channel in the bedroom. You see this 8 line Otcopus acts like a giant antenna. As planes approach Philadelphia International Airport and request from the tower runway clearance this info is broadcast on TBS. While watching Seinfeld reruns you may hear US Air Flight 543 requesting landing runway 27. Quickly looking up on the computer we find that the flight from Puerto Rico is landing on time.

Dad helped us greatly during our first few years as new homeowners not only with the work he performed (such as fixing the issue of the bedroom fan which would turn off if you turned on the bathroom light) but more importantly as a teacher helping us to problem solve the small stuff and knowing our limitations on the big stuff.

And if you find yourself asking what the significance of the red electrical tape.

Dad wanted us to know which outlets and switches he replaced in the house. Any outlet that when you remove the faceplate and examine the internal workings that has the red electrical tape was lovingly replaced by him.

While I miss my Father greatly and regret that he will not be able to see this addition in person I am thankful that I am reminded of the funny stories and trials and errors when the Octopus in the wall gets to see the light of day.

The Octopus in the Wall with the switch and outlet with the red electrical tape and Dad's seal of approval.


 

Just another brick in the wall . . .

While we enjoy the building phase the demo phase has its charms.

Inside the new addition.

This week found us kicking into high gear as we break on through to the other side into the addition.

Yes this week's blog is taking a musical tone as we hear the pounding, thumping and rattling of the tools in what is best described as a construction symphony. We are experiencing the challenges of working from home as one never knows when answering the phone just what type of background noise will be occurring.

Dust in the wind . . .

We were warned by others who took the renovation journey that dust will be everywhere. This was the part that we feared the most especially this past week when the swine flu or some other hybrid bug invaded our home. Between Scott's hacking and the thumping of the jack hammer I was anticipating seeing the Blue Man group emerge from the hallway in some bizarre performance with an air compressor and a box of Puff's Plus. We were amazed by Mingioni's team who left my home cleaner than when they started.

Here is the view as you walk in the front door. You can see through the walls into the new addition

Check out the new kitchen table and chairs--another Craigslist find

This week also finds us using my office as an office by day with areas sectioned off for a small kitchen area and dog kennels.

The fierce watch dogs, Maggie, Zoey and Fenwick have given up on barking at the construction team but still delight at barking when the sound of the boy two doors down gets on his scooter. They can hear this taunting sound over the banging of the roofers and the demo of the kitchen and add their barking to the musical mix. One would think that we would be in desperate need of a "Calgon, take me away" moment but the sounds have become easier to ignore.

From the dinning room through the wetbar/desk area into the new addition.

 

But this week was not only for the professionals but the amateurs. In getting ready for demo we had to peel up the Kahr's engineered hardwood floors in the living room and dining room to recycle in our Master Bedroom and the new dormer room on the second floor. In what can only be described as some feverous state Scott tore up the flooring and in his OCD way stacked them by size and orientation.

We had thought we could "kick this project out" in a weekend but we found ourselves in a Greek tragedy Sunday night after the sun was setting we discovered that our ceiling fan remote control was buried under furniture and inaccessible. About 20 minutes was spent trying to figure out if there was a manual override on the fan to allow for the light to turn on. Unfortunately we were unsuccessful. Scott took two lamps not yet packed and took off the shades to allow for the full glow of the bulbs. It became sort of a bizarre twister game to put your left hand on the floor but don't touch the fiery bulb of death. Around midnight, too tired to continue to work but with only a partial floor and all of the bedroom furniture unassembled and in the only other bedroom with a bed we began to rethink our plan. Turning XM Radio to the SPA channel to muffle the banging of the floor was no great help. Standing outside with the dogs at 4AM listing to Enya tunes while I hear the distant circular saw and the thump, bang, bang, bang of the floor being installed I thought any minute the noise complaints would warrant a visit from the Police.

Alas, with the floor installed followed by an hour or so to reassemble and make the bed we collapsed as the sun was rising on Monday morning. Well at least we can still pull all nighters over 40 . . . now that is an accomplishment.

Astrology, Amish and Port-o-potty Pancakes

This week will have us channeling our inner astrologer as we contemplate the nature of Mercury Retrograde. Now before you all go thinking that we are sitting here with our magical crystals and watching Shirley Maclaine channel a previous life there is some true science here.

During a Mercury Retrograde period things happen to force you to slow down. Often these things involve breakdowns in both cars and communications. For the past 10+ years as an IT professional I have seen normal functioning computers and applications go crazy during these astrological phases and I have come to believe that there is some truth here.


Scott, the skeptic of the family, usually sides with the logicical "it is what it is" mentality but my mad dash to get most of the important decisions made before September 7th so that I could think more rationally and not operate out of desperation should trouble arise has proven to help us through early issues in this adventure. (Please note there is no gratuitous patting on the back, I am merely stating what I have learned.)
Well Erma Bombeck stated years ago, "If Life is a Bowl of Cherries - What Am I Doing in the Pits?"

While the present day Bombecks state, "We know we are going to hit the pits so enjoy the cherries while you can!"

Yes, this is a pessimistic view but if you know that for every up there will be a down in the balance of life it is much easier to plan for the worse and be delighted in the "not-so-bad"

Take for example this week's construction nightmare where one item was misinterpreted on the plan causing our breakfast bump out to be 10 inches to the right which would cause us to not have the luxury of a dishwasher. Terry our construction supervisor presented us with the news and we were so surprised at how easily this was corrected (or at least he made it seem easy to us). Having the foundation being shifted 10 inches seemed catastrophic to me but knowing in my head that "Here is one of the downs, don't freak out" enabled me to not spiral downward into the grim future of dishpan hands and more frequent manicures. I was actually able to speak like an adult listening to the possibilities which made it much easier to make a logical choice instead of an emotional one. Yes Virginia, you will have a dishwasher.

In the picture above you see the top breakfast nook is where it should be and the foundation below is slightly off

This week also had us watching the amazing framing crew.

We were quite fascinated with the Amish and Mexican framing crew. OK. We were a bit perplexed as the Amish drove up and were using cell phones and power tools, but we were educated in that when work is being performed for the English (non-Amish folk) they are allowed to use these tools.

We were quite impressed by the easy going nature and how they were able to shift gears as plans were modified.

And I can't balance on a balance beam 4' off of the ground with mats below . . .

The team in action

Up goes one of the beams

Windows and roofing . . . It is really coming together

With the framing done and demo scheduled for the week of September 20th we kick it into high gear to pack push and cram every object (furniture, food, dogs into the areas of the house which are not being demo'ed). We packed the can opener and did not label the box so off to the store to purchase another so we could open dog food. The real humor this week came from Scott who Sunday morning delighted me with the prospect of having homemade chocolate chip pancakes given that we had both chips and pancake mix. The only problem . . . no stove  (as that was puchased by a Craigslister on Saturday) and only one pan remained which was some heart shaped monstrosity of cookware. Scott being the loving husband said no problem I will make you heart shapped chocolate chip pancakes . . . I can cook them on the grill.
 
Sure, ladies are thinking, how could I possibly refuse such a loving gesture from my husband . . .
 
Looking out the new kitchen window in what will soon become my wonderful kitchen I spy the gas grill long forgotten behind a pile of earth nestled gently next to the Ace Port-o-potty. When I mentioned how close the port o potty was to the food prep area my loving husband asked innocently "What's wrong with Port-o-potty Pancakes?" Somehow I don't think that recipe will be one we will be trying anytime soon.
 
Until next week . . .

The Little Things Mean Alot

Although the weather has put a damper on the construction and we have our own swimming pit we have had opportunity to reflect this week on the "little things."

When we first planned this addition 12 years ago it was with the hope of having an expanded kitchen. But over the years as the plan evolved it was, "perhaps we can add a fireplace" or "wouldn't it be great to have a half bath on the first floor." Sometimes you can get lost in the details but the little things can make a big difference.

The past week or so found us charting into new territory as we expanded the footprint of our house and also gave us a dose of reality when we took Scott's Mom to the hospital for stroke like symptoms. We were lucky in that we realized the little things like slightly slurred speech and an unsteady gait as symptoms of something that wasn't quite right. With the help of friends and family and a wee bit of tough love we got her into the hospital across the street from her apartment which, by sheer luck or divine intervention, happened to be a Primary Certified Stroke Center. We are happy to report she is doing well and already released into a physical therapy/inpatient rehab program.

The progress on the addition ground to a halt late in the week as Mother Nature turned against us, dumping rain onto the jobsite Thursday and Friday. We did get the forms removed on Tuesday, revealing the monolithic walls of what will be our new basement. This was followed by a relatively quiet day on Wednesday which brought the preppy nightmare of waterproofing and insulating the foundation. The waterproofing material is sprayed on; a thick viscous layer of glop that solidifies into a rubbery, waterproof coating. Maybe it was the fumes, but I am convinced it was the brilliant kelly green color of the coating that made me a little lightheaded. This lightheadedness escalated to mild nausea as they adhered the pepto bismol-pink insulating panels to the tacky coating. Now I will admit to having worn more than one polo shirt at the same time, and I did own a total of two argyle sweaters back in the day (The were in fashion at the time, thank you!) but I never was a fan of pink and green and really can't wait until they backfill the foundation and bury that nastiness.

Although the rain did shut down the job and give us a moat as well as a pond, we were not completely idle.

In the "out with the old" category Kim used her Craigslist powers to sell our family room furniture as well as our refrigerator.

Wading through the morass of scam replies, Kim artfully plucked the legitimate potential buyers out. The buyer of our "This End Up" furniture was Bob. Bob is a father of two boys and had recently remodeled their basement to be a den for the kids. Familiar with the solid construction of crate-style furniture as he already had "This End Up" bunkbeds for his kids, he was happy to find we had everything he needed for the den. Kim and I wrestled the unruly furniture up from our basement, through the country's smallest kitchen and into the dining room and living room beyond. Even the sofa was no match for us! Despite putting a dent in our livingroom ceiling when he and his friend were picking up the furniture, it was a worthwhile transaction for all.

Our fridge went to an equally worthy recipient. Hanna is a college student moving into a new apartment with the help of her parents, up from Virginia for the day. Her third floor apartment has a "kitchen", as she put it (she made the quotation marks with her fingers) that consisted of a small stove and one cabinet. I assume it also had a sink but her point was she would have to use the fridge in the common kitchen on the first floor. Not looking forward to the prospect of having to run down and then back up two flights of steps just to grab something from the fridge, she checked out craigslist Sunday morning and found the listing for our appliances that Kim had just relisted that very morning. By mid-day, Hannah and her parents were pulling up outside to pick up the fridge. Having cleaned it up and moved it to the living room, I knew getting it into their SUV was not going to be the easiest task of the day and my heart sank when Hanna got out of the car in a fetching neck brace and sporting a semi-healed abrasion on her forehead. I knew she would be playing the role of supervisor in the appliance loading that would be taking place. Her father seemed quite fit, if somewhat slight of build, and thankfully he had brought along a dolly. We managed to get the fridge loaded into their SUV with minimal damage, all of it was done to the SUV's interior. I stiffled a laugh when Hannah's father said to his wife, " Remember when Hannah was small and she used to ride on your lap?" My efforts at stiffling laughter turned into a near choking when the wife asked, as she and her daughter were piling into the passenger-side bucket seat, "How are you going to get the fridge up the stairs?" to which the eternal optimist replied, "It will be a piece of cake!" I know the fridge worked well when it left here; I only hope they were able to get it into her apartment with no further collateral damage.

Staycation and the mini Grand Canyon

I was always fascinated by the children's book "Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel"

This week found us in our own little picture book with the role of the Steam Shovel being played by Komatsu.

Like some prehistoric beast that likes to eat dirt this wonder chewed and spit out the seemingly endless hunks of clay revealing artifacts hidden below the soil for years. To me this was an archaeological adventure. What would we find? Jimmy Hoffa's grave, a rare dinosaur, or up through the ground came a bubblin' crude. Oil that is, black gold, Texas tea. OK so my hopes of becoming a Beverly Hillbilly were dashed when the precious artifacts were nothing but some old fence post, some old bricks and rotting tree roots. But the real prize was that we did not hit an underground river, well or septic system.

Flash back . . . .

Our "development" was once a golf course with majestic trees and water hazards and tributaries feeding into a larger creek. At the time these homes were built there was no consideration for environmental impact or the small guppy's ability to procreate and mingle with his friends. Instead the fertile soil was stripped and sold leaving orange clay and the once babbling brooks were filled with construction waste and dirt. When we bought this home we had no idea that on rainy days our backyard would transform into some sort of wild water ride for the dogs and squirrels. Rapids and ponds transformed the green grass into the Colorado River (ok, so I am embellishing just a bit).

Today . . .

With the huge hill of earth and the canyon that will be formed into our basement addition we had our own little "Staycation". Let's call it the Bombeck Mini Canyon. Standing at the edge of the 10Ft. cliff we snap pictures and ooh and aahhh over the ribbon of gray clay that streaks through the wall of earth.

This "Staycation" was short lived as just as quickly the footers were poured and the forms for the walls raised and filled. Standing at the window looking out to what once was a backyard I see the sun rising over the orange hill of clay casting it's rays into the cold metal forms and pause to think about that first cup of coffee while sitting in the breakfast nook with a good book.

Week Zero Recap

It was a whirlwind week of activity before the official start of our construction project. Besides the butchering of the maple tree, we had a full plate of tasks to knock out before the builder arrived to do site preparation on Monday, August 31st. We had been thinking about this addition since we closed on this house 12 years ago, so the rate at which the pieces were falling into place was dizzying. We met with the team from Mingioni Construction to go over the construction schedule (tenative finish date is December 12th!!), meet the Project Manager and Assistant Project Manager and walk the job. We discussed any potential difficulties and special considerations. We also showed them the amazing craigslist find we acquired last weekend!

Oh Yea, craigslist. Part of our project is the conversion of half of our exisiting kitchen into a full bath. We have a tiny kitchen currently so do not envision a palatial bath. Even with the modest square footage, we were likely going to end up with a bill for fixtures, faucets, lighting and tile in the neighborhood of $2,500 - $3,500. Enter our savior, Dirk Vernehoov... Vernhernenren... Vernhevren... let's just call him Dirk. Dirk is from Germany. He and his wife, who is Japanese, were living in Ft Lee, New Jersey near Dirk's work in NYC. They owned a nice condo with nearly every room updated and remodeled, save the bathroom. Dirk was very fastidious and precise in acquiring everything he needed to remake their bath. He had a full suite of Kohler Devonshire fixtures, including faucets, robe hooks, a glass shelf and even the matching toilet paper holder. He also had purchased beautiful imported porcelain tile , recessed lighting fixtures, switches, switchplates, even the light bulbs. Then he lost his job. Deciding to move back home to the suburbs of Berlin and stuck with a complete bathroom still in boxes in his garage, Dirk put the whole lot on craigslist. Even with the cargo van rental we got all of it for $910. We didn't even have to convert it to Euros for him.

Speaking of cargo vans, did you know that Enterprise rents them? Kim found that out while we were figuring out how to get our loot the 100 or so miles from Ft. Lee to Holmes. Now, I have nothing but good things to say about the rates and service from Enterprise, and the van itself was perfectly fine; a Chevy panel van only a couple years old with about 12,000 miles on it and well worth the price. However, the trip to north Jersey and back was an adventure. The seats in the van gave you and odd feeling of leaning in towards the center of the cab. This, in and of itself, would be hardly noticeable but for two mitigating factors; there was no center console and no armrests. With the ride you would expect from a work van, the occupants were left to rely on their own balance and the seat belts to keep them from being hurled to the floor. I, as the driver, had the added benefit of holding on to the wheel, a bonus I came to appreciate. We lashed the EZ-Pass to the passenger side sun visor with one of Kim's stretchy headbands and away we went.

The week also had us ordering the wood stove. We were originally going to go with a Vermont Castings stove, but our research showed that VC stoves had taken a nose dive in quality over the last couple years. It appears that the company had been sold repetitively and gone through at least one Bankruptcy filing. Kim dug a little further and found that the best selling wood stove in the New England states was a brand from Norway, called Jotul (pronounced yotel, like yodel). We are getting the F 500 Oslo in Majolica Brown.

We also went to look at our options for the granite counters. We already know that our cabinets are going to be an cream with brown highlights (Biscotti w/a cocoa glaze for the snobs) as well as Cognac, a rich reddish brown. We have narrowed the granite down to three colors: (left to right) 1:Golden Duen 2:Carioca Gold 3: Giallo Antico We are considering using two different colors. If you'd like to weigh in, click on the "Follow" button to register and leave a comment with your granite recommendation!

The last stop on our Line Up Your Ducks Tour was another spin up the NJ Turnpike, this time to a mecca of posh civility, the ultimate name in regal locales, the quintessential ritzy neighborhood: Brooklyn! OK I am sure there are very nice sections of Brooklyn, and to be honest the neighborhood that A.J. Madison has their showroom is not bad at all, but it was nevertheless an urban adventure. With all of the online shopping, price checking and product research we do, we have a rule: never buy a big ticket item without seeing it in person first. We had found all of the appliances we wanted locally with the exception of the Electrolux ICON range. While many showrooms near us carry Electrolux appliances, none had the ICON series range on display. Luckily we were able to find A J Madison online and the initial pricing of the package of appliances we chose was very competitive. A follow up call to Jacob yeilded a further discount. So we took a spin up to NYC to check out the range and place the order. At least this time we were able to drive up in the comfort of our own vehicle. The range looked great so we pulled the triger on the order. However the absolute highlight of the trip was running across a White Castle. Of course we had to stop. Harold and Kumar were right, it was awesome.

Check back next week for more building adventures! Heck we might actually start the project!!

Sawing, Grinding and Splitting (and other tree atrocities)

Monday, August 24th started like any other day for the maple tree in our backyard. The sun rose, the birds chirped and the squirrels scurried up and down it's trunk. Little did it know that the majestic plant was living it's last day. It was early in the afternoon when the peaceful scene was torn wide open with the angry growl of chainsaws. The maple did not have a chance. Within two hours all the limbs were removed and being converted into a whitish mulch.

With the ruthless efficiency of an obsessive-compulsive bent on tree genocide, the team from Rick's Tree Service lopped large pieces of the trunk off after trussing them up with rope, a man on the ground paying out the rope to allow the severed segment to have a somewhat controlled fall to the ground. They were nice enough to cut all of the trunk and usable limbs into 18" pieces for splitting into firewood for the new woodstove.

The next day the grinding crew came in to obliterate the stump. The stump grinder sporting a huge rotating disk about the size of a manhole cover spiked with carbide nubs that pulverised the roots and stump to the depth of about 3 feet below ground.

A few days later the log splitter team came in. I enlisted my nephew, Liam (quite possibly the worlds tallest 13 year old) to stack the wood as we split it. The 60' maple yeilded nearly two full cords of firewood. Cremation ceremonies will be held nightly starting in the fall of 2010, after the wood has seasoned. And to all my tree-hugging friends, yes we plan on planting a new tree sometime next spring.