Do It Yourself

I just watched a youtube video about how to replace a toilet. I know, I know. . . . . . how sexy can I get, right? Anyway, I'm going to attempt it tomorrow, I think. A brand new low flow, dual flush toddy. 

I told my daughter I was going to attempt this and she quite strongly advised against it. However, I know where the water shut off thingie is and there are a couple of other toidies in the house, so really, the worst that could happen is that I get stuck and have to call the plumber dude.  

While I was talking to my daughter, I could hear my father laughing. He's been gone for a couple of decades now - since before youtube self-help videos. But when H1 and I bought our first home, a 130 year old "cottage," there were many, many fix ups we needed to do. When I told Papa that we were going to do them ourselves, he laughed and asked me why I thought that would work. I always told him that I'd read a book and then he'd laugh and laugh.

"So you're going to refinish the oak floors yourselves?"  

Yes. I have a book about it. . . . . "

"Hahahahahahahaha!" 

It wasn't long before I understood what was so funny.  

One of our fix up projects involved moving a claw foot tub from one side of the 4' X 14' bathroom, to the other side. How tough could that be, right? There was a bit of a cellar, but not under the bathroom. To access that, one had to crawl through a long, scary, narrow crawl space. So, of course, we waited until our friend, Hal, all 6'7" of him, came to visit. He knew about plumbing and construction, etc. The bathtub got moved and miraculously, Hal still speaks to us! 

But the house really was an adventure in which ignorance provided quite a bit of the bliss.  

The master bedroom on the first floor had water damage to the plaster beneath the windows. No worries, right? Just tear out the plaster and replace with drywall. We got a cart from somewhere and put it outside the window to hold the bits of plaster that we knocked down. Ancient, horse hair plaster, it turns out, weighs about the same as concrete. So long before the cart was full, the wheels were sunk into the ground.  

(Sound track of Papa laughing.) 

And don't even get me started on drywalling! Who knew? We eventually hired my boyfriend from first grade to do that. He came in with stilts and everything. It's an art. One I've appreciated ever since.

When we first moved in, I could stand flat footed and palm the kitchen ceiling in some places. The kitchen was a step down from the rest of the house, and we discovered that it had been an old summer kitchen that was just sort of slid up to the house and roofed over. Okay, so we'll raise it - make it a cathedral ceiling. 

(Run the sound track)

The cabinets weren't anything close to "standard" of course, and they were sort of connected to the ceiling as well as the walls and. . . . well, it was a mess. When the ceiling came down, we discovered that the attic space above the kitchen was full of cinders and old ashes from a previous wood and/or coal stove. Lovely. And nothing - not a single corner - in the house was square. But how difficult could it be to build new cabinets to match the old ones. They are just wooden boxes with doors, after all.  

(Turn up volume on sound track)

I so loved that house with it's arched doorways and glass door knobs. It had a really good vibration and

I'm sure, an excellent sense of humor. I will think about it and Papa tomorrow while changing out the toilet. I'll let you know how it goes.