I Smell Chicken

Today, we visited Casa Mesa to place the orders for our furniture. Our style is rustic, sort of Mission-inspired, a little eclectic, and Casa Mesa has exactly what we want. We had a house full of their furniture pre-crock and our goal was to get new pieces that were as close as possible to the old ones.

The problem with Casa Mesa is, we never get out of there with just what we went after. Our last visit to look at a dining table resulted in the purchase of the big metal cock I blogged about here. Cock-a-doodle doo!

I was so touched that the Big Guy would buy me this adorable chicken. He seemed like such a sweetheart. But, as men are prone to do, he was holding his real feelings hostage deep inside. Today, he drug home his own piece of Casa Mesa yard art.

The Big Guy and his new friend.

Today, his true feelings about my big metal chicken emerged.

Dinosaur eats big chicken.

That's some BS right there. I think it's cock envy.

   

Balancing Act

My reaction yesterday and today upon arrival at my 'house' was:

Holy CRAP! 

Big pile of dirt from under the back room of the house.

(GASP!)

My stairs!

And a sort of speechless, mouth-hanging-wide-open OHHH.

A well-balanced room.

And then there was a really loud "y'all are tearing *!#* up again!"

Yup. That was my reaction. But I recovered. For the most part.

Look close at that last pic. That is a room. Balanced on a couple of boards. Oh dear. Oh dear. Oh dear.

This is not what I expected to be parked in the driveway:

Not my car. 

At least the crews are feeling comfortable in my house. They're making themselves at home and improvising. They've created a table.

Lunch!

And added coat hooks.

Coats hanging from the plywood window covers.

All of the crews are doing a great job and things were really hopping there the last few days. The back yard has been excavated in preparation for bringing that balanced room up to code.  That requires building a new support structure that meets county code. The concrete was poured for the supports. The electricians were there installing boxes and wiring. The fireplace front came down today. The county codes inspector was there and gave a big thumbs up. And the landscaping rock arrived.

Landscaping stone

Wait...what? Who ordered that? Honey? We need to talk...

The Big Guy was like a ring master at a three ring circus. A ring master who sometimes forgets to announce things. Ahem. 

I was super excited to see new things going into the house. 

This is the room balanced on boards. Eep! 

No, not those kinds of things. These kinds of things:

Electrical stuffs.

This was a highly productive week in the house. Things are really moving now. Earth mostly...but hey, it's moving!

You'll Sink

The big 'moving home' date is looming closer and there is still so much to do. There are so many things left to buy. So many things left to make decisions about. And, as usual, we crossed as many of those things off the list as possible over the weekend. Fire recovery gives new meaning to weekend warriors.

We visited an eclectic little store and picked up a new waterbed mattress, liner, and heater. Yes, I said waterbed. Yes, we still owned a waterbed. Yes, they still make those. They are hard to come by though. We have desperately missed our waterbed mattress and I'm quite sure that old bed has missed us too. I can't wait to reunite. Our rented bed is better than the hotel bed, but a waterbed it is not.

The salesman at the shop asked if we wanted the baffled support mattress. No, we said. We want the good ol' free-flow mattress. He took a good look at us and said "you know you'll sink."

Of course what he was really thinking was "you do know your fat, right?" Yeah...we were aware of that when we walked in the store. And, we've been sleeping on a waterbed together for over 20 years. And, contrary to this man's thought, we don't lay on the plywood bottom of the bed. I said "we balance each other." Ha! I tried to busy myself looking at incense and yoga mats so I wouldn't crack up or start antagonizing the misguided if well-intentioned salesman.  So, waterbed mattress shopping was perhaps the most entertaining outing we've had since the weed box excursion.

While visiting the fifth lighting center we finally fell in love with and purchased light fixtures for the dining room and kitchen. That was quite an accomplishment. We have found lights we might be able to live with and lights that caught his interest but didn't fly with me and lights that I liked but he could live without, but not lights that we both loved.  

These, we LOVE.

Quoizel 2010-2011 Catalog, Naturals Onyx

The set above will hang above the dining room table. The set below will serve as task lighting over the kitchen island.

Quoizel 2010-2011 Catalog, Naturals Onyx

From the Quoizel Arts & Crafts collection, imperial bronze with butterscotch onyx glass...gorgeous! All those words and the catalog pics just don't do them justice. They look so good lit up! They will look fabulous with the dining room table and the new cabinets. Soon, I will show you pics of the real deal, hung up in my home over the table with paint on the walls...soon. (As soon as we get walls.)

For now...just take a closer look and know that I LOVE them. 

I had an amazing chandelier over my dining room table...that I hated. That's right. Hated. Funny thing is, everyone else loved it. We had so many people tell us they loved it that we teased about auctioning it off when we finally bought a new one. Well, too bad folks. It went into the dumpster with everything else. The kitchen lighting was nice, but the previous owner had personalized it with pink paint. The pink tinge on the glass drove me nuts but I was still crushed when I saw a firefighter throw it out onto a tarp on the front lawn. 

The remains of the kitchen ceiling. 

Rebuilding the entire house after a fire is not exactly how I figured I'd be replacing those ugly light fixtures, but hey...I'm flexible. We had to get the lights picked out this week because the electrician is starting this week and he had to know what to wire in.

Did you hear that?! The electrician is starting! 

We have plumbing. We have HVAC. We have garage doors. We have a roof. And now, we shall have electrical wiring! Oh for joy!

Soon, very soon, I will see my house put back together. And none too soon. Until then, I'll just keep staring at color samples and dreaming of my waterbed. 

My favorite samples. 

When One Door Opens...You Replace It

Apparently, in order to be code compliant, the framing crew had to remove the exterior door from the basement and install a different header.  Somehow, the end result of being code compliant was that the door no longer fit. Ugh.

This resulted in a trip to Lowe’s to pick out a new door.  All in all, not a bad trip. We have a cute new door. It has little blinds inside the window so the dogs can’t mess them up and the kids can’t mess them up and, BONUS, I don’t have to clean them.  I’m sure they’ll break the first month, because I’m optimistic like that. And because the salesman assured us if we had any problems the company would send a representative to our home to make the repair. He seemed to be speaking from experience.  

The door did not require a ton of decision-making effort. ”Do you want white or colored?” White. “Do you want this lovely nine-light or this wickedly-fun-to-play-with model?” Ooh…I’ll take the blinds encased in glass…totally fun to play with. Done. Load it up! (The big guy is making use of that ice cream truck).

New basement door with encased blinds- so much fun!

The plumbing appointment on the other hand, was an overwhelming nightmare. It was a decision-making marathon. We started with the master bath, because that is the fun one.  “Let’s look at sinks. Do you want a decorative bowl, drop-in,  under-mount, or integrated two-tone one-piece?” Uh…  “Do you like the oval, clam, round, square, or diamond shape?” Um… “How about faucets? Are you looking for a single or double handle?” Hmmm… “Finish? Stainless steel, oil-rubbed bronze, brushed nickel?” Oh for the love of all things. “I want it to not hold water around the edge because I’m short and fat and I don’t want the front of my shirt to get wet every time I bump my belly against the counter. I don’t want it to be shiny. Not shiny. Easy to clean. No grooves to get all gunky. Definitely not shiny. Can you do that?” The saleslady scribbled something on her paper. I'm sure it was a derogatory comment. 

We pored over samples and walked the showroom and laid our paint chips on every single slab of marble/polymer/acrylic/whatever surface. Aargh! There is still so much to pick! We haven’t picked the carpet. Or the tile. Or the appliances. Or the lighting. Or the interior doors. Or the rest of the exterior doors. We have lots of samples though. That’s a good thing, right? 

We also got new garage doors this week. I kept forgetting that we needed new garage doors. Apparently, when doors do not open, firefighters open them. And then you have to replace them. 

I used to think people became firefighters so they could play with fire. Not true. They become firefighters so they can break stuff. I mean really, how many jobs would encourage you to bust down doors, tear down walls, throw appliances around, bust out the windows and spray water into houses? Firefighters are awesome. Too bad I'm terrified of fire. 

Anyhoo...    

Ta da!

One new garage door. 

Nice, huh? No more plywood doors. And when I visited the house this week, I found this:

Temporary thermostat.

It's a temporary thermostat! I get so excited to see new things between the bare studs. It makes it feel more like a house than a construction zone.

So, that is the big accomplishment this week. New garage doors, some rearranging of things already built to meet 'code', a new door, and a temporary thermostat. Oh, and more new plumbing. And a whole mess of samples to stare at. Fun, fun stuff.

Bling!

There are shiny things in my house!

Look!

Shiny metal!

Note: One should not wear flip-flops to a building site with shiny and sharp materials. One should not do that. One should also not wear long boot-cut jeans to a building site with sawdust and filth everywhere. Especially if one is particularly short. Ahem.

Today, the HVAC crew was hard at work installing our new bling!

New vent work.

Check it out!

New air duct in the dining room.

Ooh! Pretty!

New unit.

The new air handler is installed! I am absolutely giddy with excitement. This means the crews have quit demolishing things and started putting the house back together! It was so cool to see big, shiny things scattered throughout the bare framework. Shiny, blingy, awesomeness!

The basement floor is also intact once again and we have functional, up-to-code plumbing. 

New plumbing in the basement.

I'm loving it. If you've been following our progress, I hope you're loving it too! If you're keeping track, we've been out of our home seven months now. Yep. Seven. Some days that seems like forever so it's no wonder I get excited about shiny things. For seven long months I've looked at dark, dingy soot, plain, raw lumber, gray rock chunked out of the basement...boring. Finally, I see something pretty! I can't wait to see drywall! And cabinets! And paint!

You know it's been a long journey when sheet metal is this stinkin' exciting.  

Move That Oil!

I've been spending a lot of time turning pages in kitchen remodeling magazines lately. By a lot, I mean that I look at them every free moment I have. You know, while I'm on my throne. The throne is the only place a woman with five children, a job, and a whole house remodeling project can possibly sit uninterrupted long enough to look at a magazine. I've pretty much picked out our kitchen cabinets and counter tops, but I'm still searching. I'm waiting for a tile pattern to speak to me. Occasionally, I see a tile pattern that says "meh, could do" but I have yet to find one that says "oh yeah, you know you want me."

Fortunately, there are no slow cookers taking up precious counter top space in the photos of kitchen remodels, so I am not reminded in that way of our disaster. I suppose the clunky slow cooker is not sleek enough to feature in a picture perfect kitchen. What I do see, over and over again, in nearly every single photo in every single kitchen magazine I take to the throne, is oil. The classic bottle of oil, be it flavored, herb-infused, or plain old olive, is standing in a place of honor...right next to...the stove.

That's right. A bottle of accelerant right next to the primary heat source. It makes me INSANE.

Public Service Announcement: DO NOT place accelerants near a heat source in your home! Don't do it people! Putting your olive oil next to your cook top is like placing a can of gasoline next to a campfire. Don't do it.

Confession: I did it.

Don't we all? Who even thinks about it? To be honest, I had a lot of accelerants. There was a bottle of olive oil on the counter right next to the stove which is where the stupid crock was plugged in. When the cord to the crock shorted and began to spark and flame, it didn't take long I'm sure to reach the olive oil. No need to stop there though. Just a foot away there was also shortening, vegetable oil, sugar, and lighters. Yep, lighters. A whole little crock of them. Those big, long lighters you would use for a grill or fireplace. Probably a half dozen of them, right on top of the cabinet out of reach of little fingers.

So, a small spark led to a little flame, reached the bottle of oil, and we had an inferno.  

Kitchen cabinet nest to stove

Repeat after me folks- I will NEVER, ever place an accelerant near a heat source. No matter how amazing the photos in all of the remodeling magazines look with their trendy bottles tied with raffia, or how convenient it may be to actually have the oil within reach.

I, personally, will now store my oil, and lighters, on the other side of the kitchen for the rest of my life. If I visit your kitchen, I will move your oil to the other side of the kitchen. I might unplug your slow cooker too. 

Now, don't get me wrong. the oil did not cause the fire. The fire was happening because of a bad cord on the crock. The oil just pushed the whole thing over the top. The oil took what might have been a slow, smoldering fire, and turned it into a rapid, intense, very hot fire. It is perhaps the difference in a kitchen remodel as opposed to an eight-month-stay-in-a-rental-while-we-rebuild-the-whole-house remodel.   

New Deal

We had a system before this fire took over our lives. The big guy took care of the kids, and me, and kept us fed. I tried to make a living and worked at completing a degree. That was the deal. But guess what? Fire destroys everything. Systems included.  

So, new system. I work. The big guy oversees the rebuilding of the house. Together we fumble taking care of the kids and keeping everyone fed. And college? I had hoped to be back by the summer semester, but as the moving home date hovers ever farther in the distance I think maybe I’ll enroll in the fall semester.

This is what the new deal looked like today:

The big guy goes to buy rock to fill the holes in the basement floor, but the rock company won’t sell him the rock because he doesn’t own a dump truck. (Don’t encourage him dammit! We already own an ice cream truck.) He has to go to a different rock company. Then he goes to get concrete but the machinery is down so he has to find a different place to buy concrete. With all of the delays, he announces that he will not be home to take care of the kids when they get off their three different school busses. I am on my own to work, referee, and oversee chores. 

I decide that all I really need to be able to tackle this challenge is a shower.  It really is the little things.  I had twenty minutes before the busses started arriving. I sent my boss a quick message to let her know I would be right back and ran for the shower.  (Yes, I work from home. No, I do not pack sex toys for a living. Yes, I am aware of work-at-home scams. No, really…it is legitimate employment. Yes, I do work in my PJs.)

Follow me if you dare- it went like this:

Flip on the lights. Drop my iPod into the dock. Comb my hair. Start the shower. Grab a washcloth.  Ahhh…the hot water feels great. Where is the conditioner? Ugh. Middle child left it out there on the counter. I’ll just make do with his conditioner. Oh, yuck. That conditioner probably has ‘cones’. I don’ t want that in my hair, but I am NOT getting out of this shower. “MOM!!! Rough Stuff didn’t get off the bus!! She just stayed on and the bus left!” Crap. Shut off the water. Wring some water out of my hair. Tiptoe to my phone. Dry my ear so I don’t drown the phone. Call the bus company. “Hello, my daughter did not get off the bus at her stop, she is on bus ##.” I’m on hold. Fabulous. It is cold out here. I am dripping everywhere. “Oh, you found her, you’re bringing her back, thank you.” Peek around the door. “Son! Son! Tuna! Somebody! Guys! HELLO?  H E L L O O O?! Go back to the bus stop and get your sister!” Now the whole floor is wet. I should have skipped the shower. Wow, this hot water feels great. Why on earth didn’t I grab the damn conditioner while I was out there?! I am not getting out again. I need to shave. Where is my razor? Oh, freak. It is way out there on the floor. Son of a biscuit. Now there is water all over the floor again. I hate this shower door. “MOM! Do you know where my iPod is?” “NO, I am in the shower!” Man, how long has it been since I shaved my legs? “MOM! I need to tell you something!” “No you don’t! It is NOT an emergency and I am in the SHOWER!” I shouldn’t have shaved. I need to get back to work. “MOM! Do you know where my splitter is?” “I am in the shower!” “It is a gray cord.” “NO! Go away. I am in the SHOWER!” “We bought it at Staples.” “(BLEEP) This is NOT an EMERGENCY! Leave me ALONE!”  Get out of the shower. That was so not worthwhile. I’ll just throw on my sweats and put my hair up in a towel so I can get back to work.  Yeah, I look SO much better now. Filth and foul.  Log back in to work. “Mom, um…there is this form…um…I need for school…because Mr. X said…blah…blah…blah…are you listening?” Oh for the love of all things.  “Let me stop what I’m doing and help you with YOUR problem.” 

“Nevermind.” “Mom’s cranky.”

Yep. Great system.

Stupid crock.

I was cursing the crock. I was shaking my fist at the fire. I was having a pity party because if only we’d had GFCI outlets we wouldn’t be living in a rental house and the big guy would be home with the kids instead of always meeting with contractors at our ‘other’ house and I could have just taken a simple shower and none of this crap would be happening to us!

And then the phone rang. I answered with a nasty “hello!” A sweet voice on the other end said “this is so-and-so from Pryde’s, we have more of your new dishes in” and I was all WOOHOO! Because…well…you know, NEW DISHES!

And that is what life is like 7 months post-fire. Change. Challenge. Frustration. Anger. Outrage. Sadness. Acceptance. And new stuff.