Windows #2 and 3

On Saturday, Evan hustled to install two more new windows. In fact, he moved so quickly that I didn't get a chance to take pictures while he was working. But here's the finished product:

Not sure what we're going to do with the old windows:

So, three windows down -- five more to go. And maybe next year we'll do another five or so, after we see how these survive the winter. Yes, we've got that many more windows to replace.

For now, we are overjoyed at how nice the new windows look. Viewing them from inside (these are all in the living room), they look clean and sturdy. And, unlike the old windows, you can open them. Ah, nice to feel a breeze in the house...

We're floored

Evan spent all weekend putting in our new kitchen floor!

The floor project is not quite done -- a few more tiles to go. But in the main part of the kitchen, we no longer have to dance across grubby old uncleanable linoleum. It is...

... a laminate that looks like slate!

I'm not sure the photo does it justice -- but in real life, it's nice. There's a texture to it, and it fits in nicely with the rest of the kitchen style. So I am excited. Combined with the fact that we had plumbers here on Friday installing the dishwasher [cue angels singing from somewhere over the rainbow], I feel as if Christmas came early.

That feeling is perhaps doubly strong since we got six inches of snow in the past two days (I think it finally stopped tonight), making our corner of the world look like a winter wonderland....

Counter-productive

Did you know that kids get sick, like, every 3.5 days? Because they do. And as a relatively new parent, I somehow wasn't aware of this fact. They pick up ailments like postmen pick up mail. It's like they have this mailbox for germs, only the flag is up at all times, saying, "Hey, germs! Stop here! I’ve got something for you!" And kids being kids, they're all like, "Cool! I've got a mailbox full of germs! Wait 'til I show dad!" And suddenly, everyone in the house is sick.

Yeah, it's been a fun week here at Casa de Illness: a screaming kid, a whining dad, and a mom who needs to deal with these two grumps while maintaining her sanity and guzzling Dextromethorphin. Oh, and we're still doing dishes in the bathroom sink.

But. BUT! There's been progress. I have pictures. Those pictures include a counter and a vent hood.

What the pictures don't show is how the vent hood is slightly crooked thanks to the slight slope in our ceiling. Ah, aren't old houses fun!? I'm sure if a professional did this, they would've actually leveled the ceiling. But me? Nah. Just put some sheetrock up and be done with it. And now we have a slightly crooked vent hood. Sigh. But it works and it hasn't fallen down yet, and friends, lemme tell you, that in and of itself is something to be thankful for. Needless to say, that sucker was a bitch to hang -- and I did it with a 102-degree fever.

Oh, and the pendant lights are at different levels for testing purposes; I'm not that off-kilter.

At this point I'm chasing after the plumber and the gas company to try and tie up those two loose ends so that we can actually get running water and a functioning cooktop. However, the plumber and the gas company seem to have consensually lost their hearing, ignoring as they are my repeated phone messages that, hey, we have a kitchen to finish over here! If I don't get a response this week, I'm looking elsewhere.

Side note to contractors: Why do you have such an aversion to calling and saying, "Hey, I can't do your job! I'm too busy! Sorry!" The I'm-simply-not-going-to-respond approach is so very, very high school, like ignoring that cute girl that's been giving you googely-eyes from the next lunch table. Seriously, don't leave me hanging, just tell me you CAN'T DO IT? Not so hard, right?

Tile one on

Evan has been busy tiling in the kitchen, in anticipation of the electrician returning to finish our outlets. He finished tiling this weekend, when I proudly snapped this photo:

The tile is rather rustic in style, which suits the house. I must add, we did not buy the tile at Lowe's, as we are still disgruntled with the store.

Evan has since also finished the grout though still has to seal the tile. The electrician returned today to do the outlets -- photos coming soon...

One more week until we are scheduled to have countertops....

Burnout

To those of you that have full time jobs and a toddler but still manage to get work done on the house, I salute you. Cuz, man, I gotta tell you, I ran outta steam this week. The arrival of fall, the lack of morning sun, and this seemingly endless project all coalesced into a heavy funk this week, and it takes all the effort I have to even think about tiling, spackling, or painting at the end of the day. Tired, tired, tired.

So, in lieu of any real progress pictures, I’ll give you an update on where we stand.

Cabinets
All the cabinets have been installed, but there was a problem with the crown molding and we needed to order a different style. Once that arrives, the cabinets should be done. I’m pleased with how they look. We went with 42” cherry cabinets, and the height makes the room look taller.

Countertop
We ended up selecting a moss green Corian for our countertop. The company came and fabricated a template last week, and the installation has been scheduled for November 5.

Plumbing
Once the counter is in, we'll have the plumber come back to run new water supply lines, new drain line, and hook up the dishwasher and the faucet. The sink is integrated in the counter, so we don't have to worry about sink installation.

Electrical
The kitchen has been completely rewired, but we’re still waiting for everything to be hooked up. That’s partially because I want the electrician to finish everything in one shot, and to make things easy I want to tile the backsplash before he installs the switches and outlets.

Appliances
Appliances are here, but they're not doing us much good. The only two things we're using to cook right now are the old beat-up gas grill and our small microwave. Regardless, here’s the list of our new appliances:

- KitchenAid wall convection oven
- KitchenAid dishwasher
- GE Profile microwave
- GE Profile five-burner gas range
- JennAir chimney vent hood

I assembled our chimney vent hood and was ready to hang it, but then realized the electrical has to be hooked up before it can be hung. The sucker is heavy! Also, since we're moving from an electric range to a gas range, we'll need to have a propane tank and line installed. No natural gas around here.

Tiling
We chose some 4” x 4” rough, tumbled marble and some slate that we’ll intermix to make the backsplash. I’m about 25% done at this point, and I plan to tackle the rest this weekend. Hopefully my measurements are right so that the counter top fits nicely underneath the bottom row of tile. Once the tile work is finished, I’ll need to apply a sealer.

Floor
The floor – a slate-looking laminate manufactured by DuPont – has been ordered and should arrive within a week. We went with laminate for a number of reasons: budget, ease of installation, and durability. If I had an unlimited budget, I probably would’ve gone with tile and radiant heat. Hopefully this won’t end up looking chintzy.

With any luck, we’ll have this all wrapped up by Thanksgiving. Cross your fingers.

Low, Low, Lowes

So, I had this whole scathing post drafted, ripping Lowe's to shreds for their lousy kitchen planning services, poor customer service, etc., etc., so on and so forth. But then I got home. Hot diggity!

Am I still annoyed with Lowe's? Yup. They screwed up a whole host of things, including lost or unordered appliances, incorrect cabinets, and missing trim. But our installer--even as he silently cursed Lowe's under his breath--managed to piece things together and pull together the beginnings of a complete kitchen. Look! Do you see?! It's a dishwasher! Oh, heavenly hunk o' stainless steel!

Oh, goodness, when I get my hands on that oven, there's no telling what will happen.

Soon, I’ll be braising meats, making a big pot of duck confit, baking scones for breakfast, and then sipping a glass of wine while listening to the lovely hum of our dishwasher.

It can't come soon enough.

Kitchen continuation

We've been so busy with the kitchen renovation that there's been no time to reflect on our progress.

Since Evan's last posting, he removed the sink and the rest of the wall behind the sink. Then he started putting up insulation.

The insulation part of the project seemed to go pretty smoothly. Next, he and his father put up drywall. This took around three whole days, and isn't even quite done yet -- we still need to do some more spackling and taping of the seams where the pieces come together.

They started with the ceiling, and to do that portion of it, they rented a lift. It was more complicated (slow-going) than the walls because they had to cut out holes for the rececessed lighting. Of course it was a lot more intricate than this; I can't really do it justice. Anyway, the process of fastening the drywall to create our new ceiling was impressive to observe.

As of tonight, after many grueling hours, all the ceiling and the walls are up -- or at least the parts we need for when the contractor arrives to install the cabinets on Thursday. I think they still need to do part of the hallway, but that can happen this winter. I am very proud of the job Evan (and his dad) did!!

The weather has been unseasonably hot (80s) and the garden is doing well. While they were working on the kitchen, I spent some time tending to it. We have some awesome things growing there, like beets and turnips and broccoli raab... just no way to cook any of it. Yet.

I changed my mind

So, the kitchen ceiling has officially been removed and my back is currently in rebellion because of the work.

Somehow I don't think what was revealed is quite up to code:

Remember how I said I was planning on covering the old plaster with 1/4" sheetrock? Yeah, well, I changed my mind. I personally think the red wheelbarrow classes up the joint:

And here's some documentary evidence that I actually *do* perform some of the work around here:

It's actually a bit depressing ripping out the plaster; I feel like I'm stripping away the character of the house. But this is an external wall with zero insulation, so I made the decision to rip it down, insulate, and then recover with drywall. The plaster work was really well done, though, and keyed in very tightly. You can even see the horse hair:

And our oven is supposedly arriving on Monday. Cross your fingers.

Dust and dishwashers

Last night Gina and I took the tyke out to a local bar/restaurant for an evening away from the mess that used to be our kitchen. The level of dirt and dust that seems to be suspended in the air makes it seem like you’re living in a dust storm in the middle of the Sahara, and it’s just not conducive to a nice meal at home. This morning I grabbed a glass from the dish rack—we still have a sink and a dish rack—and couldn’t believe the film of dust that coated the sucker. And I didn’t even do any work yesterday.

Tonight, though, I plan to kick up a bit more dust. I need to finish pulling out one base cabinet and pull a few other miscellaneous pieces, and then the electrician comes next week to do the wiring. The ceiling is wide open – I ripped that out Monday and Tuesday night – so it should be easy for him to run new electric. The plan is to install recessed lighting, run wiring for the vent hood and dishwasher, and reroute the 220 line for the oven. And we’ll toss in a few additional receptacles just for good measure.

Right now the smokehouse is the staging area for all most of our appliances, and it takes every ounce of effort to resist tearing apart the cardboard containers to gaze lovingly at all the stainless steel glory. A 36-inch cooktop! A dishwasher! God, I can’t wait to listen to that sucker hum as it works its scrubbing magic on all our grubby goods! That, my friends, is an evening’s entertainment I can’t WAIT to have.

Why most of the appliances? Because Lowe’s has farked up a few things: first they forgot to order the microwave, and then they couldn’t locate the oven we had purchased, so they delivered everything BUT the oven. They claim they found it, but I’m dubious since we still don’t have it in our possession. Hopefully they’ll get in there next week. And we still need the vent hood, which may or may not arrive by November. Sigh.

In the interim, I need to install the ceiling and put 1/4” sheetrock on the walls (I opted to cover the plaster rather than knock it out). Once that’s done, the cabinet guy should be here to install everything. The final step will be getting the plumber in to finish the sink connections and hook up the dishwasher!

Did I mention I can’t wait to have a dishwasher?

Kitchen, disappearing

Yesterday afternoon and last night, Evan took out the stove, by himself. Here's the empty space where it used to be:

Tonight he started disassembling the ceiling, but I haven't had time to take photos of that yet. Probably will take another two or three evenings to finish.

Demolition Man

With cabinets ordered, appliances en route, and a countertop selected, my dad and I officially began tearing out the kitchen on Wednesday night. I planned to work Thursday and Friday as well, but both Gina and Nate came down with fevers Thursday afternoon, so that plan was shelved and we opted to tackle most of it on Saturday. A dumpster arrived Friday afternoon, making clean up a cinch, and with two hammers, two prybars, and my trusty Sawzall, we went to work. Here's the kitchen when we moved in; apologies for the the confused gentleman that appears in the center of the frame:

After a few hours, we had a good chunk of the cabinets ripped out.

My dad and I were both amazed at the quality of construction on these cabinets. They weren't overly decorative, but they certainly were constructed to outlive me: motise and tenon joints, spriral 8d nails, and 3/4" plywood in many instances. The base cabinets needed some gentle urging by a 10 lb. sledge hammer to convince them to give up their small piece of kitchen real estate. The one base cabinet had a notation written in pencil underneath: "Oliver Feinhour - March 3, 1959." Gina's dad tells me the guy is still living somewhere in the region.

We also discovered more of a traditional Pennsylvania Dutch painting technique that we first saw on the walls of the dining area.

There's a PA Dutch name for this, but for the life of me I can't recall what it is -- Schtickle Stapf? Diffle Dapf? I've been told two or three times what it's called and for some reason I just can't remember the name. In any event, the technique uses a base color, and then two or three additional colors are applied overtop using a sponge.

Still to do: rip out old ceiling, knock out plaster, run new electric. Time to get to work.

And so it goes

So, it's nearly the end of summer and it’s time to review the list of things I planned to get done over the past few months but never even started. House painting? Check. Rewiring workshop? Check. Finish painting garage? Check. Repair east side bulkhead doors? Check.

None of it finished.

Flagstone patio? No, I failed there. That one I actually completed, though it took me about four times as long as my initial estimate. And I think we’ve used it once since I finished it. Oh well.

So, outside of work and taking care of an incredibly energetic 9-month-old, what have we been doing?

Kitchen planning.

That’s right, the kitchen is finally getting renovated. We’re just about to begin tearing out the old 1940’s goodness, but I’m already exhausted (and slightly overwhelmed) by the planning process. Who knew that planning the freakin’ renovation could be so grueling? I don’t think my wife would argue that I am the absolute king of underestimating what it’s going to take to get a project done (see flagstone patio above). We’ve spent more hours than I care to recall sitting around discussing cabinet finishes, countertops, color schemes, floors, and appliances. In the process we’ve managed to spend a boatload of cash, too, but that’s why God invented gin: to soften the blow of these types of situations.

The one unanticipated problem is the placement of the cooktop. To maximize counter space near the sink we opted to place the cooktop in an island/peninsula that will separate the dining area from the kitchen. It seemed like a good idea at the time. The problem is the vent hood. Not only are island vent hoods damn expensive, but there’s the problem of ductwork. With a wall vent, you typically don’t have far before you hit an exterior wall. With this, I have to span quite a distance before I reach an outer wall.

The other problem is that the vent hood that we ordered from Jenn-Air is coming, ohh, at some point in the next two months. That’s the best estimate we could get. Which most likely means it won’t arrive until after the cabinets and everything else has been installed. So, I have to somehow manage to either (a) run the duct without actually having the hood, or (b) avoid duct and just use a recirculating solution, sans ductwork. From what I’ve heard, option B is not the best bet, but it may be my only solution at this point.

But first, I have to tear everything out. Demolition officially started last evening, and I’m sure we’ll document the damage here. Stay tuned.

It's the little things

First, this:

That, my friends, is an electrical outlet. We now have three -- count 'em, three -- of those suckers in the nursery and another three in the office. Each room on a separate circuit! Imagine that! God, I love electricians.

Now, while some of us build stairs in our free time (yeah, way to make us look bad, Bill) those of us less prolific sorts tackle smaller things, say, painting and assembling cribs. Friends, I give you the nursery in all its peachiness:

We still need some window treatments and some art on the walls, but I feel like we're getting somewhere. Here's a very lousy photo of what the room looked like last year:

I need those before / after shots to prove that I do get things done. Slowly.

We have an electrician

By some combination of lunar position, solar activity and pure, sheer luck, we have an electrician. In the house. Right now. And he's actually early. Why is this important? Well, (A) he showed up, and as far as I'm concerned, that's a great start, and (B) if he gets the work done today, I may actually be able to move forward with the nursery. Hallelujah.

I must admit, I've been freaking out about this. I've convinced myself that Gina could suddenly go in to labor at any moment and the poor child would arrive home to a half-painted nursery with unassembled furniture and a bare light fixture hanging off the wall, scarring him for life and leaving him with the belief that his father is a negligent half-wit. Nevermind that she's got five weeks to go and the kid could care less whether the walls are all one color -- this is keeping me up at night! According to conventional wisdom I should enjoy my luxurious sleep schedule now, when I can actually get more than three hours in the span of a night. And already the kid is toying with me!

In any event, the electrician will be trying to fish a bunch of wire to the second floor to separate the single circuit that supplies all three rooms plus a first floor washing machine. In the process he'll be installing an outlet and an overhead light in the nursery, and another outlet in the office. This is the rub: There's only one common wall running from the basement to the attic, but it butts up against a stairway and the electrician is concerned about hitting a header beam. No knowing until he gets in there to take a look.

Once that's done, I'll be able to reassemble trim in the nursery, patch any holes, finish painting and assemble the crib so that the kid doesn't hate me in 18 years.

Squares

Next to my handy Irwin Quick Grip clamps, my favorite tool is my speed square. It's an indispensable item, especially if you're doing a lot of work with a circular saw. Cross cutting is a breeze using a speed square, resulting in lovely straight cuts, and it's also nice if you're doing a lot of 45 degree miters. Plus it's light, and when you really screw up and spike it on the floor of your workshop, the blow doesn't throw it all out of whack.

But I've gotta plead ignorance here: What's with all the additional markings on a speed square? I know it can be used for all sorts of things like rafters and stairs, but I have no clue how to read it. Math was never really my forte, and this involves numbers. It makes me, like, all confused. Anyone have any tips?

I also have a framing square, and honestly it sits in my tool bag and doesn't often see the light of day. Then I happened to read this article on This Old House and realized that you can use it to scribe nice straight lines when you need to rip a board. Nice.

Charging ahead

A few weeks ago we had several electricians out to look at the circuit that's powering the laundry room plus three rooms on the second floor. At some point in the history of this home, somebody replaced all the wiring with armored cable but left a large chunk on one measly 15 amp circuit. It's easy to overload the circuit, especially if the washer is running or, in summer, if we have a window AC unit cooling the bedroom. Crank up the vacuum and *thunk* there goes the breaker.

Technically we're not up to code, either: The washer should really be on a dedicated circuit. Since we're trying to paint and fix up the room that will shortly become the nursery, I decided now is the time to have any holes punched or trim pulled. Actually, I was hoping to have the nursery done by now, but getting an electrician to first give you a cost estimate and then schedule time to do the work seems to consume more time than I realized.

I'd consider doing the job myself, but (A) I have no experience with electrical work and therefore I'm really squeamish mucking around with it, and (B) it's not a real easy job for someone with no experience running wires. Part of the problem is that there are no common walls between the first and second floor – everything is offset by a foot or more – so getting the lines up to each room will take some finagling. We looked at running them externally through PVC on the back of the house – the quick and dirty solution – but there's enough crap running up the outside of the house and I don't need an additional eyesore, especially one in grey PVC.

Anyway, we have somebody coming in two weeks to try and knock this job out. In the meantime I've been repairing a bedroom window I broke while removing a window AC unit. The piece of plywood currently in its place looks really classy, but I need to let the glazing sit for a week or so before painting and installing the sucker. I also made some repairs to the interior of the window frame that I replaced, ummm, early in spring. That was definitely one of those "I'll get to it next week" projects that took a few months to tackle. It's not the only one.

What not to do

How many idiots does it take to change a light bulb on a light that doesn't work? Only one: Me.

On Saturday, with the wind howling, I found myself 25 feet in the air, one hand on a ladder and the other on a light bulb, trying to change a bulb that I thought was burned out. See, the outside corner of our barn has an old light fixture that hasn't worked since we moved here. I've always assumed it just needs a new bulb, and so I would constantly eye the thing and think about changing it. It's high and I never had an extension ladder that could reach that height. At least until now.

Thanks to my grandfather, I recently took ownership of an old wooden extension ladder that I thought would be perfect for the task. (As an aside, the guy has lived in a ranch home since the 1970s. What the hell does he need a 25' extension ladder for?) I've been up on aluminum and fiberglass extension ladders and the height never really bothered me, so I thought this would be easy. I waited for the wind to settle down, set the ladder against the barn, extended the sucker and made my way to the top. That's when I realized that wood flexes. A lot. I suddenly found myself its 25 feet in the air, bouncing like I was on a trampoline.

Instead of getting down, I decided to muster the courage (stupidity?) to let go of the ladder with one hand, remove bulb one, and replace it with bulb two. At that exact moment, the wind suddenly started ripping out of the West with a fury that I thought would send me flying across the driveway and into the front lawn. Luckily it didn't. I managed to replace the bulb, promptly crawled down and counted my blessings that someone watches over me.

Then I flipped the switch on the light, saw no light and cursed the fact that nobody watches over me.

Falling behind

This weekend I stepped outside and suddenly realized that, my God, fall is really here.

What happened? I had all these plans, these projects that -- with winter looming on the horizon like some battleship ready to lob ordnance at my humble home -- still aren't completed. Wah. I blame my foul mood partly on houseblogger.net. It's an excellent site and a fantastic resource, but honestly, there are people on the site that could build a house in a weekend. Mine stil needs paint. How can I compete with that? It takes me weeks to even figure out how to tackle a project, much less get it done. Grumble.

I don't think I'm alone, though. I'd bet that most of us who live in an old home or are working to bring one back to life would readily admit we’re not only gluttons for punishment, but that we're also a terribly romantic and idealistic bunch. This can be a frustrating slog, trying to bring a property back from the dead while still holding down a day job and tending to the demands of everyday life. But I really believe that these properties deserve to be saved, that they are a part of a history and a landscape that is rapidly disappearing. It’s nice to have central air and leak-free windows, to not have to worry about the next project, but in the end I’d much rather look back and say I’ve saved a piece of something.

Hopefully I won’t lose my mind during the journey.

Approaching one year: What's been done?

Our first year in the house is nearly upon us, and right now I'm feeling like we haven't made much progress. But when I look back at what the house looked like when we first set foot inside, well, I suddenly feel like we've made a pretty good dent. Sometimes the to-do list is daunting and at 3 a.m. I'll find myself staring at the ceiling wondering how we'll get it all done and, more importantly, how we'll afford it all. Then my mind will wander and suddenly I'm thinking, hmmm, if we can knock this sucker out, open it up and pop in a skylight this room would ROCK. Hopefully in twelve years I'll have a son that can take over the lawn-mowing responsibilities, which will free up plenty of time for doing such gratuitous things. For now I need to keep things standing. So here's where we are:

Furnace: Had 30+ year old furnace replaced with a much more efficient model that's about half the size of the old beast. The cost of fuel oil subsequently skyrockets and we count our blessings that this one doesn't suck as much fuel as the old model. Circulating hot water system works fine, but there's a lot of window work and insulation needed to keep the heat inside.

Floors: Ripped up nearly a dumpster full of carpet and padding from five rooms, a stairway and a hallway. Random width pine floor was in decent shape, so I replaced the worst boards with some salvaged pieces and proceeded to sand them down. In the span of two weeks, I finished the living room, library, three bedrooms and hallway and finished them with oil-based polyurethane. A professional would most likely cringe at the finished product, but I'm pretty happy.

Stairs: Stripped all the treads on the stairway and they've remained that way for nearly a year. Hopefully I can sand them down and refinish them next year. I don't want to do it in the winter, especially with a new child in the house.

Windows: OK, I'll admit I didn't get very far on the windows. I only tackled three total, but it's a start. I had to replace the frame on the East side of the house after I realized everything was rotted. I'm currently praying that the job lasts more than one year, considering I was completely winging it. Renovating Old Homes by George Nash comes in very, very handy during this project. So do regular martinis and my Sawzall.

Painted: Living Room, Kitchen, Master Bedroom, Office and Library. Also scraped and gave a first coat to all the garage doors and the summer kitchen. That should keep the weather at bay for a while, though I'd like to get on a second coat before winter hits. Where in the world did summer go?

Garden: Dug up a good bit of earth and planted a pretty successful first garden. We currently have garlic for next spring and spinach for this fall.

Misc: Replaced kitchen light with a relatively inexpensive Ikea chandelier, and recently replaced the porch lamp with a nice hanging model. I also replaced the front storm door after it was ripped off its hinges during a wind storm. I was holding it at the time and it nearly threw me off the porch and lofted me into the potato field.

Still to do:

Kitchen: We had two people come out and look at the kitchen to get estimates for a renovation. One never got back to us and the other, well, suffice if to say the cost forced us to shelve that project for now. Hopefully we can tackle this next year.

Barn painting: I invite you all over, dear readers. I will supply ladders, paint, beer and pizza. The rest is up to you. C'mon, it'll be fun!

Barn roof: There is a corner of the barn roof that's got a nasty leak that has the potential to wreak havoc on a support beam. It needs to be tackled soon. Very soon.

Windows: I need to tackle more of the windows, reglazing them and repainting them.

Bathroom: We only have one full bathroom in the house, and it's small. There's plenty of room to bring the wall out a foot or so and really open up the space. While the pink tile is cute in a kitschy-sorta way, that needs to go as well.

Raise a kid: Somewhere on or around December 7, the big project in the house will be the addition of a little tyke. I imagine all projects will cease for a while as we try to figure out what the hell we're doing. This is the most exiting and terrifying project.

Breaker, breaker

In the process of thinking about some changes to what will be the nursery (T-minus twelve weeks), I discovered that we've got a slight problem. I knew that a few of the rooms on the second floor were on one single circuit, but I figured we'd deal with that in due time. Right now it's just the two of us, so it's not a big problem; just don't vaccuum, run the computer and iron at the same time. Last week, though, we made said discovery. Gina fired up the washing machine on the first floor to do a load of clothes, and then went upstairs to finish some iron. *POP!* As soon as she fired up the iron, the washing machine went off along with everything else on the second floor. Oh, man.

So that's our current problem -- a single circuit supplies a good portion of the second floor as well as the utility room. With a kid on the way, we definitely need to split it into several circuits. Time for an electrician. Right now we're on the hunt and have a few leads (no pun intended), but I have no clue what the damage will be in the end. And since we need an electrician, it seems silly for me to install a switch and light in the nursery. For the time being, I'll just stick to painting the nursery. I also discovered a slight leak over the east window in the room, so I need to get up on the ladder and find out what's happening there. As we all know, if I discover some rotten wood somewhere up there, there's certainly more behind it. That scares me. Hopefully the problem is minor and easily fixed.

Privy, thee

During the process of scraping and painting the smokehouse we finally got a chance to examine the outhouse tacked on the back of the main building. Apparently it used to be located off the side of the house, at the end of the main walkway – a common location for most old privies. I'm not sure why or when it was moved, but regardless of the location I can't imagine what it was like to hike out there in the dead of winter to take care of business.

The door had been nailed shut and covered in poison ivy, and with a task list longer than my right leg it was an easy thing to ignore. Besides, it's a hole in the ground filled with, well, you know. Not very romantic. But this one is special: If nature called in the middle of the night, you could always bring a buddy. Behold, the two seat outhouse:

Sweet, huh? Even has electric, with a single bulb as it's light source! I think we may need to do a little cleaning before it's open to the public...

Tin roof, rusted.

The heat broke on Thursday of last week, just in time for our Saturday painting party. Humidity was low and the sky was the kind of brilliant deep blue that makes you want to just dive right in. We got rolling around 10 a.m.: my father arrived first, followed by mom, sister, and then Gina's parents and her cousin's family. My father, who happens to abhor heights, climbed right up on the ladder and got to work.

By noon we had tackled half of the front and part of the West side, and I realized then that I had vastly underestimated the amount of paint needed for the building. The five gallons of Behr fence & barn paint was almost half gone, and we weren't even close to finishing the first coat.

By 6 p.m. we had finished two of the largest sides. The rear and the East side still need to be done, but they're fairly small and I can probably tackle them in the evenings after work.

It's unbelievably satisfying to get even a portion of this project completed. If nothing else, it makes my wife happy because the property doesn't give off that "I'm abandoned" vibe. Like anything, though, this project begets more projects. When we ran out of paint about 5 p.m., I climbed up on the lower roof to scrape the East side, which hadn't yet been tackled. Looking at the old corrugated roof I realized it's also in dire need of replacement. All things in time.

I completely blew off doing work on Sunday, though. It was another beautiful day and I climbed on the motorcycle and went out for a two-hour ride. There was a moment of guilt, but it quickly passed.

Hot hot heat

Good God, it's hot, the kind of hot where your sweat glands simply surrender, open wide and let the sweat pour out like the breaking of Hoover dam. Yeah, that hot, but us folks in Eastern PA aren't the only one that seem to be feeling the heat. Lucky for me, I've got a project that involves shooting highly-pressurized water at things. Cool, luscious H2O. Actually it's not that glamorous. You see, we have a smokehouse -- alternately known as a summer kitchen -- that is in dire need of paint.

Smokehouse:

Paint issues:

So this weekend I pulled out the pressure washer and blasted the loose stuff from the siding:

It's not the best pressure washer on the face of the planet -- only 2200 PSI -- but it does a great job of removing the loosest paint and tackling at least half the job. Oh, and, uhh, yeah, I would advise against balance on a ladder while attempting this task. I did, but it could pretty quickly knock you straight off the ladder onto your ass or perhaps your head, especially if you happen to have a really powerful pressure-washer.

Don't be fooled: it still took a lot of elbow grease to scrape the remaining paint off the siding, and I'm still not done. This, however, is the roughest part -- we suckered, err, invited a bunch of people to come over on August 4 to help us with the overall painting task. It's amazing what you can do with the promise of drinks and pizza.

Oh, and the hat? That's my favorite protect-me-from-the-sun article of clothing, bought in 2005 at the surf shop in the North part of Long Beach Island. The best five bucks I ever spent. Oh, quit laughing. It's not that bad.

Glazing over

Over the past few weeks I've slowly started the process of reglazing the sashes in the old double-hung windows on the West and South side of the house. At some point most of the windows on the North and East had been replaced by vinyl replacements, but the rest were never touched and they show it. Several have broken glass – those I'm tackling first – but the rest just need to be scraped, reglazed and painted. I've only done three so far, but I figured I'll share the small amount I've learned from the endeavor.

Here's the start of sash number three with the glass removed. I recommend removing the sash from the frame if possible. It makes the project much easier.

It's absolutely essential to get all the old glazing out of the rabbit in order to get a good final product. I've found that a heat gun and a glazier's tool works wonders, but use caution: Heat will break the glass. If you are re-using the glass, you'll need to shield it with some old aluminum flashing or some aluminum foil. Likewise, if you're replacing one pane of a multi-pane window, you'll need to shield any adjoining, undamaged panes while you're removing the glazing. If you're simply replacing the glass, wrap the old pane in a cloth, tap it gently with a hammer and remove it prior to starting. It'll make life easier.

While you're scraping, make sure to remove all the old glazier's points from the wood. They should be located every six or eight inches around the perimeter of the glass. If you intend on reusing the glass, be careful removing the glazier's points – it's very tricky. My windows had simple flat triangles rather than the kind with vertical tabs and they were nearly impossible to grab. I've found that by taking the tip of the glazier's tool, laying it flat against the glass with the tip just behind the edge of the glazier's point and spinning it while pulling gently away from the sash I can get it removed.

After you've removed the glazing and points, scrape any old paint off the rest of the sash, sand it and give it a good coat of primer, including in the rabbit. I gave each sash two coats of primer before I started the glazing.

Next, fill the bottom of the rabbit with a ¼ inch or so of glazing. I prefer the glazing putty that comes in a tub. I used the stuff in a tube on the first window repair and I dislike it – it dries too quickly, is hard to tool and doesn't seem to make a great seal. To fill the rabbit I put some putty on a glazier's tool and simply push it along the rabbit. There's no need to be neat in this step. Once you have a good bead all around the sash, place the glass in the rabbit and gently push around the entire edge. This should give you a good seal with about 1/8 inch of putty. You'll scrape the excess up later.

Take your glazier's points, lay them on the glass, and using a putty knife carefully press them straight into the sash while applying a modest amount of downward pressure. On the first window I was a bit too heavy handed and ended up cracking the pane.

Take a golf-ball sized piece of putty and work it in your hands to soften it, then roll it out to form a rope – about 3/8 inch – and place it around the perimeter of the pane.

Once you've placed the putty, take a flexible 1 ½ inch putty knife, place it at a 45 degree angle between the sash and the pane, and draw it slowly and smoothly along the pane while applying even pressure. Make sure the putty has a good seal on both the pane and the sash. Carefully remove the excess putty once you've completed the side. Continue with the remaining sides, carefully smoothing the corners into a nice groove. I've found that by turning the putty knife out and up as I'm approaching the corner, I can create a nice groove.

The putty dries slow, so wait a week before painting the sash. I'm hardly an expert, so if anyone has any additional tips or corrections feel free to share.

Barn roof blues

I've always had a hatred of rain. It's an evil necessity but it, like, messes up my hair and gets my socks wet. It's such a drag. Anyway, we've had a serious bout of rain over the past few weeks and all I can say is I'm glad I don't live along a flood plain. Easton, PA? Under water. Trenton, NJ? Under water. New Hope, PA? You guessed it: under water. From DC to upstate New York, there are a lot of people working like mad to try and save their property. Luckily we've fared pretty well.

The somewhat dilapidated slate roof of the house – which was painted with aluminum roof coating by the previous owner and has a lovely metallic sheen to it – held like a champ. The biggest bummer was that the leak in our barn roof is worse than I thought. One of the large support timbers has obviously taken a serious beating over the past few years as a result, and on last inspection I could poke my finger right through the thing at the lower edge. In a good steady rain the leak is just streaming water. We have a bunch of scrap tin catching and routing the water to a tub, but it's a pretty futile effort. It needs to be fixed.

The sucker is high, it's big, and it's gonna be a pain. The leak is right along a seam, where another section was added years ago. Someone at some point just slathered asphalt roof coating all over to try and stem the leak, but it obviously hasn't worked. Now that it's dry I'll need to get up there and determine whether it's something I can do myself or whether we'll need to call in the big guns.

Progress amidst the rain

After a weekend of rain – steady, persistent rain – we were finally able to get out and mow a portion of the lawn yesterday evening. Two thick ribeyes were waiting in the fridge for dinner, so Gina handled the large portions with the riding mower while I followed with the trim mower. As I was trimming around the garden, I noticed an explosion of broccoli rabe in one of the plots -- a perfect complement to a steak grilled medium-rare! After mowing, I went out and clipped off a good bunch and then sautéed them with some garlic for dinner. There's nothing like fresh produce for dinner.

Speaking of the garden, I've been remiss in posting pics of our progress, which has been coming along nicely. There are seven plots, each about 4' x 8'. What started off as somewhat tenuous – we had a run of dry, hot weather in early spring – has developed into a nice spread of goods. We have six tomato plants, a few rows of broccoli rabe, two cabbage plants, six kale plants, a row of onions, some thyme and basil, a bunch of newly-sprouted beans, and some beets. Oh, there's some cauliflower in there, too.

This weekend we got 4 yards of compost delivered and I intended to work on the flower beds around the house. But since the rain sidelined any outdoor projects, I was able to paint the ceiling in the bedroom – something that has bugged me for months. The ceiling is rather low, and an astute reader (thanks, Laurie!) advised us to paint the ceiling the same color as the walls to give it a bit more height. Man, did that work wonders (again, pictures to come). Not only does the ceiling look better, but it gives the appearance of space around the tops of the windows. I rearranged the furniture in the room, too, since most of it was out the hallway while I painted. The new setup takes great advantage of the long, narrow room.

And yes, I still have heaps of exterior painting to start.

Kitchen krunch

Vacation = sporadic posting. Sorry.

My wife and I both enjoy cooking, so it's no surprise that one of the things that has migrated to the top of the home improvement list is an update of our 1940's-era kitchen. They layout is terrible, the linoleum is not only ugly but also gouged beyond recognition, and the cooktop – well, I'd rather cook on a camp stove than try to regulate the heat on that sucker. So when the harvest-gold Fridgidaire that came with the place finally gave up the ghost last month, well, we decided it was time to consider an update

When we first moved in I had entertained the notion that perhaps I'd be able to handle a kitchen renovation, but having very little faith in my skills and plenty of other projects to chase, we decided to visit a few professionals. After receiving our first quote, all I can really say is ouch. I figured my estimate of what it would cost would be low, but I didn't realize I'd be that low. I'd rather not do the kithchen half-assed, either, since that's where we spend the majority of our time. I'm not talking kitchen porn here -- restaurant-level appliances and the like -- but I'd like to do it right the first time.

So, any tips on how to approach a kitchen renovation? What are safe projects for do-it-yourselfers and what is best left for the professionals?

A room with a view, part deux

Finally finished the window rebuild that I began a few weeks ago. The project was twice as difficult as I had expected -- shocker! -- but it was a great learning experience. The fit inside needs some adjustment, but otherwise it looks pretty good:

The trim has since been painted. The top span is actually a pressure treated 4 x 4 that had once been the post for a basketball net. I ran out of wood but stumbled on it sitting in a corner of the barn. Nothing like recycling! The glass in both panes had to be replaced; in the process of removing old glazing I cracked both pieces. Like I said, a good learning experience.

Floors

After we bought the farmhouse, one of my first missions was to pull up the carpet and see what was underneath. Thankfully, most of it was salvageable random-width pine flooring but it definitely needed some work. Before we made the move, I decided to rent a drum sander and an edger for a week and see what damage I could do. While clearly not to the level of a professional, the floors turned out pretty decent. I used oil-based polyurethane for the finish -- the stuff stinks to high heaven and takes forever to dry, but it gives a really nice warm glow to the floor.

So, about that drum sander. If you've never used one, be prepared: they are a beast to control and require constant attention in order to do a half-decent job. It's easy to gouge the floor and do some serious damage, so it's vital to keep the sander moving steadily as soon as it makes contact with the floor. We had some added work since carpet glue around the edges of several rooms just gunked up the sander on first pass. What a total pain in the ass. We had to use some heavy-duty (and unbelievably noxious) chemical stripper to first remove the glue. After that painstaking process I countersank each nail before sanding, and then resank any shiny heads after changing to a new grit sandpaper (I went 36-60-80-100). With that in mind, I still ripped a number of rolls of paper on nail heads, which is a costly mistake - the stuff ain't cheap. At the left is an image of the bedroom floor after it was sanded.

The dust will get absolutely everywhere -- luckily we had no furniture in the house, so I cracked the windows and went to town while wearing a HEPA filter. After a week I had the floors done and started with the polyurethane. I had read that an lambswool applicator pad was the best method to apply the poly, but when I went to the store to pick up the stuff I was told a short-nap roller would do just fine. Total nonsense. The roller left a series of small bubbles in a few layers of the polyurethane, but I only realized it after the poly was all down -- a total of four layers. It's not noticeable unless you look, but it's still annoying.

A room with a view

So, a few weeks ago when I began to notice a piece of flashing popping off the sill of one of the windows on the East side of the house I thought, no problem, I'll just pop it off, replace the lower moulding and we'll be golden. Yeah, right. Upon further inspection it was clear that nothing was left of the sill -- or the rest of the structure surrounding the window. Wood just crumbled in my hand. Twenty hours and countless mistakes later we are nearing the completion of my first completely rebuild window. Exhibit A:

Having never undertaken such a venture, I'll be interested to see how long this thing lasts. For the past few weeks we've had a sheet of plywood as a substitute -- a feeble attempt at trying to stem the unending wind that seems to have settled in the valley recently. I replaced the glass and reglazed the windows and should get those back in place by Saturday, right when the weather starts to get warmer.

The back story

Welcome to farmicology, a site about trying to live in the middle of a field. We hope to learn something from this endeavor. This is another test to see how pictures display and whether they work correctly.