We are rounding for home. Literally!

After more than seven months of construction, countless visits by Midas Well (we're still doing some things because we "Midas Well" while we're in the process), a couple of really big fiascos (worker falling through ceiling, wrong granite installed, wrong fridge), and countless other smaller-by-comparison "issues," our nearly 100-year-old house is going to be close to new again.

I was looking at some of the entries from the very beginning of this blog, when the sun was shining, summer was in the air and our heads were filled with exiting visions of what was to come. I thought at the time that we were pretty well prepared -- physically, emotionally and mentally -- for this process. And, I guess compared to some people, my husband, Mark, and I, were. (Hey, we never even argued -- at least not with each other -- during this whole shindig. Amazing!)

But, nobody, and I mean NOBODY, can prepare you for such an upheaval of your life. Don't say I didn't tell you so when you decide to do it yourself.

Thankfully, I had you, dear readers, to help keep my focus, my sanity, and most importantly, my sense of humor. More than once, a nice note from somebody I've never met in person who lives thousands of miles away was enough to bring me back from the brink. Whether it was some good advice, a word of encouragement or someone sharing their own stories, it has been great to know we were not alone.

Thanks to Karen in New Hampshire who shared with me several updates on her remodel as we both trudged along -- Karen, if you haven't given up, I'd love to hear how things are going now!

Eleanor in Boston sent her thoughts on whether we should keep the wrong granite countertops that were installed, and boosted my spirits by saying that the cabinets look great. It was just what we needed right at that moment.

Lots of folks weighed in on the countertops, actually. It was great to have so much feedback. We decided to keep the ones that were originally installed -- and I think we are going to like them quite a bit. They seem to be growing on us.

And finally, thanks to folks like Linda from Pennsylvania, who said she stumbled on the blog and enjoyed keeping up with the progress, as she is in the midst of a remodel herself.

"I love your blog," she said. "Keep up the good work. I am looking forward to more pictures!"

More pictures are on the way. Promise. In the meantime, keep those e-mails coming! They mean more than you know.

We got a New Years surprise when we finally got our beloved new refrigerator in its new spot: It doesn't fit.

Well, actually, that's not accurate. It fits. Too well.

You see, despite the fact that we had chosen this fridge really early in the process -- in fact, it was the very first appliance we chose -- our cabinet designer forgot to include extra swing room because it's a side-by-side, and the space has a wall on the right side. And we can't have the door open on the left, because that interrupts the kitchen traffic flow.

So, in other words, the fridge ain't got a thing 'cause it ain't got that swing ...



See what I mean?

Fortunately, our appliance store, Hamilton's Appliances, in Portland, Ore., is very accommodating. They are taking the side-by-side back with a full refund and letting us choose another refrigerator. The deal is, it can't be a side-by-side, they just require too much swing from the door to be able to access everything. I think we are going with a bottom-freezer -- the pull-out drawer for the freezer will be one less door to have to deal with.

I have to admit to having a not-so-petite pity party over this one. I loved that fridge. Ever since I was, like, 5 years old, I've always wanted crushed ice on-demand from the door of my refrigerator. I know, it's juvenile, silly and not the best reason to buy a fridge. But there you have it.

Hey, at least my dentist will be happy when I tell him I won't be crunching crushed ice all day long ...

Have any chilling thoughts on refrigerators? Care to share your own fridge follies? Keep those e-mails full of encouragement, empathy and commiseration coming!

The holiday season is over. All the decorations have been packed away again until next year -- and we're still not in our home.

It's been six months since we started this "little" project, which seems to have grown larger as the days have grown shorter. But there is progress, so there is hope in this New Year that we will be back in our (lovely, nearly new 100-year-old) home sometime before 2007!

Thanks to everybody who voted (and wrote to me personally) in the infamous countertop conundrum! As some might remember, the granite countertops that were installed in the kitchen were the wrong granite. Close, but not quite what we had ordered. I asked readers to vote on whether we should keep them (being compensated for living with the wrong ones -- forever) or rip them out and have the right ones put in.

A majority of you said you would live with the countertops, but demand compensation for the mistake, which is what we wound up doing. We're putting those dollars back into the house, and I do think we will enjoy living with those wrong countertops while taking pleasure in a new deck out back and freshly finished hardwoods on the main floor!

There's another Major Faux Pas that we are grappling with right now. And, frankly, I am just too annoyed to write about it at the moment. So, you'll just have to wait for a while to find out about that one.

In the meantime, I put together a new slideshow, complete with a photo from our first "party" in the new kitchen. Some friends came over during the holidays to check out the progress, and like good friends, they supplied all the treats, since we didn't have anything functioning in the kitchen!

Here are some photos from December:

Slideshow 3


And, as always, I'd love to hear from you. Keep those e-mails full of encouragement, empathy and commiseration coming! Happy New Year!

Midas Well, you've got company! Make way for Maj. Faux Pas and his sidekick, Miss Stake.

The Major and Co. made a debut late last week when our countertops were installed. Imagine our excitement to finally see the gleaming new countertops we will be enjoying for years to come! But that thrill was short-lived with the sudden realization that the countertops had been made from the wrong granite!

What we had chosen was Absolute Black, which looks like this:




What we received is Absolute Black Zimbabwe, which looks like this:




It's hard to tell in the photos, but the Zimbabwe has a lot more gray and white in it, whereas the Absolute Black is consistently just black.

We are now trying to decide if we want to live with the Zimbabwe and get compensated for the error. Or if we want the countertops ripped out only to start anew.

Fortunately, the people we are dealing with have been extremely professional and are working with us whichever way we want to go. And that certainly makes things a lot easier.

There are pros and cons on each side:

1. If we keep the granite, we will be back in the house in just a couple more weeks -- after more than six months of dealing with this project.

2. If we keep the granite, we get a nice discount, which could go toward other parts of this giant home improvement project. Or perhaps go to purchase things like food after all the bills are paid.

3. If we keep the granite, it might be easier to keep nice-looking. Just like a black car, black granite allegedly isn't very forgiving and shows every water spot. This might be a "happy mistake" in the long run for those of us who do enjoy doing other things besides babysitting our countertops.

4. If we go for the granite we originally wanted, it will be at least another four weeks before we are back in the house. I am sure six years from now, that won't seem like a big deal, but right now, after nearly five months of us living in separate towns, all I want is to be back home.

5. If we got for the original granite, it will mean more chances of other things getting scratched or dinged during a second installation. There already are a few nicks and scratches on the (brand new) cabinets from the first installation.

Those are just a few of the considerations weighing heavy on our minds right now as we try to figure out what we want to do with Maj. Faux Pas and his sidekick, Miss Stake.

What do you think? Take the survey and help us decide! You can find it on the front page of the homes section on this Web site, right under Pardon My Dust.

Before you go weigh in though, you might want to take a look at the progress on the rest of the house:

Slideshow 2

If you want to travel back in time, or want to remember what summer skies look like (yes, we've been doing this remodel for nearly six months now), here is the first slideshow:

Slideshow 1

And, please! Keep those e-mails coming.

Thanks to everybody who has written me lately asking what's happened to the blog.

I'd like to say that I didn't write anything on purpose, just to see if you missed me, but the fact of the matter is, things just got busier than usual, and I kept putting the blog on the backburner. Still, I am glad it was missed!

Progress is going full-tilt right now at the old homestead. The cabinets in the kitchen are almost completely installed. We've "Picked Our Granite" -- a phrase that seems to be the remodelers' equivalent of "Picking Out Rings" for betrothed couples. It's almost as if until you've Picked Your Granite, you miiiiiight still be able to back out of this crazy scheme. But once you've Picked Your Granite, it's a done deal. And you better like it. Fortunately, we do!

Dining Room Drama

Meanwhile, the dining room looks like a war zone:




You might recall that Midas Well had been visiting a lot, persuading us to do more to the house than we first anticipated, as in "We Midas Well" do whatever-it-is because (choose one):

A. The workers already are there.

B. The whatever-it-is is already torn up.

C. The whatever-it-is is discounted.

D. We'd have to do it soon enough anyway.

E. We've already spent $XX to get it this far.

F. All and/or none of the above.

One of those Midas touches now includes stripping off nearly 100 years of old paint and wallpaper on the main floor so we can re-plaster the walls and begin a new century of paint and wallpaper collecting. It's like an archeological dig, scraping off year after year and decade after decade of the latest fashion in wall coverings.

The removal of all that lead paint and ancient wallpaper doesn't strike fear into my heart nearly as much as having to pick new paint colors, though. I've been known to have more misses than hits in that department in the past, usually discovering that a color is Terribly Wrong only after the final few brush strokes. And, after having made fun of some of the previous inhabitants' choices (I am sure electric blue and metallic gold stripes and bubbles were just lovely with the right furnishings), I am now almost paralyzed at the prospect of what future homeowners might think of my choices.

New Images!

Some of you wrote in saying that the slideshow was becoming too cumbersome, especially for folks on dialup. So, I have started a snazzy second slideshow that documents from now on (hopefully until the project is complete). You can find the new one here:

Slideshow 2

If you want to travel back in time, or want to remember what summer skies look like (yes, we've been doing this remodel for more than five months now), here is the first slideshow:

Slideshow 1

And, please! Keep those e-mails coming. It's great to hear from those of you also in the throes of a remodel, the survivors -- and even those of you who still have visions of remodels dancing in your heads.

I've been spending a lot of time with a "new friend." His name is Midas Well, and believe me, my husband is not happy when Midas comes around.

I, on the other hand, am a little more amenable to his presence. After all, Midas Well recently made it possible for us to finally get rid of the really ugly textured ceiling in our dining room, living room and hallway.

Well, actually, the worker who took a misstep upstairs and fell through the floor/ceiling into the dining room was responsible for getting the ball rolling. (He's OK, thankfully.)

But once it was clear that we needed a new dining room ceiling, Midas Well was the one who seductively whispered in our ears, "Now that you've got this big hole in your ceiling, you Midas Well get rid of that ugly stuff on the ceilings in the other rooms, too." After all, it would look funny if one was different than the others. See for yourself:



Once the seed was planted, there was no turning back. We knew we Midas Well do it. And it didn't stop there: Since we were going to have to redo the ceilings, we Midas Well take off that old yucky wallpaper in those rooms. And we Midas Well repair any damage to the plaster on those nearly 100-year-old walls. And then we Midas Well give it all a fresh coat of paint ... You get the picture. (Ooh! Pictures! We Midas Well get some new ones for the new walls!)

Anyone who has done a big construction project has met Midas Well. And they also know their wallets tend to get a bit thinner after he pays a visit. But his presence is a bit addictive. And often, his suggestions do make sense, even if they do tend to create the infamous Midas Well Domino Effect.

I recently realized I had to put a stop to my frequent rendezvous with Midas Well -- after I once again mentioned his name, and my husband said sarcastically, "Heck, if we're going to to that, we Midas Well tear down the whole house and start over."

Yep, I think we've seen enough of Midas Well for a while ...

Oh, what a difference a week makes.

In less than seven days, the dust has cleared, and I am once again breathing oxygen instead of powdered gypsum.

Miraculously, the dust disappeared from all surfaces as well. I want to hire the magic fairy that came in and got all that white stuff out of the house so efficiently. I've never seen such a miraculous makeover.

In the meantime, the walls on the addition actually look like, well, walls. It's really quite amazing to be able to see what the lines and drawings and, later, boards and nails all create once a "skin" is on it.

Check it out:





Next comes some of the fun stuff, like cupboards, countertops and paint (not necessarily in that order).

Paint: Not necessarily fun -- for me. I don't have the paint gene. So, I tend to have an extremely hard time picking paint for anything, which is kind of silly, because compared to things like cabinets and countertops (which are far costlier and more time-consuming to replace, yet I had no trouble choosing), changing wall colors is a piece of cake. For some reason, I've never been able to grab the concept of what color a wall (or porch or stairs or ...) is supposed to look like based on one 1-by-2-inch piece of paper. Invariably, I think I've nailed it, only to get the paint on the intended surface (and usually all over me and several other unintended surfaces at the same time) and realized the color is Horribly Wrong. Not just bad, but not even close to what I thought it was going to look like.

The pressure is on this time, as I don't have the luxury of going back two or three times to find the right shade and repaint (and repaint and repaint). I've got cabinets waiting in the basement (and people waiting to install them) for a coat of paint to get on the walls.

You'd think, with my track record, that I would shy away from anything besides white, but I am stepping out with a bold statement -- in the kitchen at least. I am going with a newer company called Devine Color through Miller Paint Co. The company is based in Portland, Ore., (my hometown), and has a commitment to environmentally friendly practices, including offering mini paint pouches (instead of small cans) to test how the paint looks on the walls. The packaging is completely recyclable, and each one provides about an 18-inch square of color (or you can do several smaller squares) to test on the walls, so you don't have little cans of paint all over the place, and you don't have to make a decision based on a tiny piece of paper. Brilliant!

Here is what I chose for the kitchen (just the wall color -- not the door). It's called Green Tea. And that's just the first coat. Imagine how rich it will look with two!




I am quite pleased. And the best part is, I am not running back to the paint store in tears (OK, I never really did that, but I have returned frustrated and fuming). So that's a success story right there. To be continued, with any luck ...

Can't get enough. Check out more images of the Green Tea walls and other stunning events in this slideshow.

Care to share your story? Talk to me at lisa@ibsys.com!

I had some stuff to do in town over the weekend, so I thought I'd just spend the night at our construction zone, er, house.

"Yeah," I thought. "It will be a little dusty and there will be construction stuff all over the place." Boy, was I wrong. I had no idea the massive mess that was in store for me when I opened the front door.

They're putting up drywall now. So, there's white, powdery stuff everywhere. Even in places that seemed airtight. And that plastic stuff they use to cover the areas where they are working? Why bother? You'd have to use one of those gizmos that seals food by melting plastic together to even come close to securing that all-pervading powder only in the construction areas.

As far as I could see through the dusty haze, the sempiternal project seems to be going well. I do see progress under all the powdery white stuff. And it's exciting to see the actual shape of things to come.

More on that coming soon -- after I clear my head and lungs from all the dust particles I've inhaled!

It's been a while since I checked in here on the progress of the construction of our remodel and addition.

To be honest, I just haven't been able to write anything about our house project the last two weeks. I have had a hard time putting into perspective -- and then into words -- the scope of the minor inconveniences and annoyances we have had in the wake of the overwhelming devastation and losses that thousands of people are suffering in the Gulf Coast. And I am having a hard time getting excited about our "dream house" project when so many people (including some friends of ours) currently are living in a nightmare.

I've had to move out of our house. Because we are putting entirely new plumbing in our nearly 100-year-old house, and it is also being rewired for electricity, there is currently no water or power. I telecommute every day, and have only "virtual" co-workers, so I probably don't need the hot shower as much as I need the juice to power up my computer. But at least I have a job, and a place to live, and I am grateful for that.

I am living about 90 minutes away from home with our two cats and our dog, who were all just a little more than freaked out by the construction. My husband, Mark, has to be at work each day, so he is actually using our house as a "crash pad" and utilizing the shower facilities he has at his office. We see each other only on weekends when he comes to visit. But at least I have our beloved pets here with me, and I know they and my husband are safe. And we know we will see each other in just a few short days -- and that this is a temporary situation. I am grateful now, more than ever, for that little bit of knowledge.

I see the lost homes, the calls for news on missing loved ones, and I make this promise: I will never again complain about the "inconvenience" of living among a little construction dust and rubble ...

Check up on the progress in this slideshow.

Care to share your story? Talk to me at lisa@ibsys.com!

I am sure our neighbors are not happy with us right now. I wouldn't be if I were in their shoes. Nothing like waking up to the sound of lumber being sawed and nails being pounded to start the day off with a bang. Literally.

I did my best to talk to our neighbors about the project before it got rolling, so they were aware of what was happening. Most have been more than excited and enthusiastic (an improved house helps the whole block), and everyone so far has been pretty congenial. We even had one neighbor sneak in our back yard early on to take a peek at the progress (I busted him from my vantage point at my computer).

A couple of mornings ago, I learned that our normally low-key, mild-mannered architect who lives next door got a little passive-aggressive with our framer. Our neighbor waited until I was back inside the house and Mike, the framer, was in the back yard, before he covertly placed a note under Mike's windshield that said the neighbor would report Mike if he didn't keep a clean job site. There were three little pieces of cardboard on the parking strip that had gotten away during a lumber drop the evening before. Honestly, I was going to pick them up that night and completely forgot about them.

To be frank, I was taken aback by our neighbor's action. He's always been reserved, but affable enough. I have been more wary of the early morning noise than the couple of pieces of debris that were accidentally left outside.

I took some time to talk to our neighbor that night and showed him our progress. He's been just a sweetheart ever since -- and even has come over twice since then to check out the scene. This might just bring the neighbors together a bit. At least it gives us all something to talk about (and hopefully they're not griping about the noise)!

It's HOT, HOT, HOT

I telecommute every day for work, so it's been interesting, to say the least, working in the middle of a construction zone. Today, the thermometer reached near 100 degrees in our neck of the woods. That, coupled with the fact that Mike and Enrique were going to be tearing off the top part of the back of our house, sent me and the doggie, Aiko, out to the cooler and quieter confines of the front porch. It was actually a nifty little place to hang out for most of the day. It was a little weird explaining car sounds during a conference call, but it's also pretty weird explaining construction noises. This might become my "other" home office!

I mentioned that Mike and Enrique pulled the top part of the back of the house off today. It was quite the sight from the staircase below. Our own little Stairway to Heaven:




With the heat, I was fantasizing about this time next year, when we can enjoy the little balcony off our new master bedroom upstairs. It's not quite there yet, but you can see the beginnings of it. You can find this image and (as the project progresses, many more) in this slideshow.

I can't wait to sit up there, sipping a fine microbrew and enjoying the "treehouse" ambience. It might just become the best seat in the house!

Until next time, cheers!

Share your story. Talk to me at lisa@ibsys.com!

Our framers are fantastic!

Mike and Enrique could teach a course on how to be a great subcontractor. Mike is always on top of things, making sure his orders are coming in on time and finding out why when they don't.

Enrique gets in about 20 minutes before Mike does and makes sure everything is ready for them to rock-n-roll just as soon as a "decent hour" to begin banging around in the neighborhood rolls around.

In the meantime, we've set up a little kitchen in the dining room, complete with microwave, refrigerator, coffeemaker (very important!), toaster and some shelves to store a few items. We had out-of-town guest last weekend (what is it about construction that makes people want to come over and visit?) and I even managed to put together a nice little breakfast one morning of bagels, cream cheeses, other goodies and fruit.

That gives me an idea for a new TV show. Instead of creating a "Kitchen Stadium" complete with every gizmo and gadget for the gourmet chef, try putting some real "Iron Chefs" in a makeshift kitchen with dorm-room basics and see what they can concoct -- all while trying to avoid getting lathe and plaster in the food!

Now that's my version of Reality TV!

My hope has been restored!

The very next day after posting My Very First Rant, the concrete was laid and life was good.

I really appreciate all the e-mails I received from readers giving me encouragement and their own sub-contractor anedotes. It somehow does make you feel a little better knowing you're not alone in your frustration (or worse).

The best thing though, so far, has been Mike, our framing subcontractor, and Enrique, who works with him. They are extremely hard-working, prompt, courteous, meticulous and quick! When Mike says he's going to be finished with the framing by Friday, I believe him. He's not once given me a reason not to. It's that whole "do what you say" thing. Mike gets it!

Here is where we were at as of Monday evening:



Over the weekend, our friend, Abe, who used to work for a nonprofit organization here in town called The ReBuilding Center came in and took down all our kitchen cabinets and kitchen sink.

The ReBuilding Centers mission is to get reusable construction resources out of the waste stream and back where someone can once again enjoy them.

The cabinets were original to the house and will quickly go to a new home, I was told. The ReBuilding Center folks took them without charging us to haul them away, and we get a tax write-off to boot! But most importantly, I feel great knowing that those old cabinets will get another life beyond my walls.

(at least on the subject of this renovation project ...)

I think I am going to go into a new line of business. Concrete!

Based on the broken promises, missed appointments and lack of communication on behalf of the subcontractor who is allegedly going to pour our concrete foundation, I could easily get a lot of work -- even if I did half of what I said I was going to do.

"Arnold" has missed at least four scheduled appointments to be here. The foundation was supposed to have poured nearly a week ago, and the empty footings are still here, exposing their rebar to the world. Meanwhile, our framer is pretty much ready to rock and roll!

(I want to make it clear that I am NOT upset with our contractor. They are always professional and extremely communicative. I am sure they are less than happy with this person's recent actions as well.)

Here's an example of what has happened (or, in this case, not happened) in the past 24 hours:

1. After several days of promises that "Arnold" would show up, we're told that the concrete will be poured on Wednesday. Late morning, I call our contractor, who says "Arnold" is planning on being there at 2.

2. Coming home in the evening, it's obvious that nobody had been there all day, except there did seem to be a little more reinforcements in the footings. But no concrete.

3. Later that evening, we get a detailed voice mail from our project manager, who says "Arnold" is slated to be at the house Thursday morning at 8. He makes sure we know that we will have to move our car, and that we will need to reserve some space in front of the house for the concrete trucks (there are tons of remodeling projects going on in our neighborhood, so the street is always lined with a gaggle of various service vehicles and trucks).

4. Thursday morning, we do as we are told. And we wait for the concrete guys. And we wait. And wait. A few hours later, I call the project manager again. His answer when I told him "Arnold" wasn't here yet? "You're kidding. I will get in touch with him right away and get back with you."

5. It's now 12:30 p.m. and the project manager just told me that "Arnold" still is planning to show up to pour the concrete today.

Based on previous times that he has promised to be there and not shown up, I am not holding my breath ...

What do you think? Am I being too impatient? Do you have a similar story? I'd love to hear it. Talk to me: lisa@ibsys.com!

A lovely birthday present was delivered to the house last week. It's a gorgeous turquoise-blue color, which I think goes especially nice with my eyes:



Really, nothing says "I love you" quite like your own port-a-potty!

Other Developments

The trenches for the foundation were dug last week as well, but really, nothing much more has happened since then.

The footings and foundation were supposed to have been done by now, but there was a delay. I am sure it won't be our last one!

One thing I am learning (already) is that Mark and I, as the homeowners, have to initiate the communications a lot more than I expected. There are a lot of times where strange people will be coming and going and talking and pointing and nodding and/shaking their heads. But they won't just come out and tell you what's going on unless you ask. Of course, then, they are happy to fill you in on the details.

I guess one of the things they probably aren't very accustomed to is having someone around the house all the time. I telecommute daily for my job, and my home office is in the same space as where all the construction will be happening. I am trying not to be a pest, but I have to admit, I do get a little curious when something is promised to be happening, but the people who are supposed to be doing it aren't doing it yet.

Yep, communication is key ... on both sides of the dirtpile!

Comments? Questions? Suggestions? Talk to me: lisa@ibsys.com!

I've had a few folks ask to see The World's Largest Dumpster. So, without further adieu, here it is:



You can find this image and (as the project progresses, many more) in this slideshow.

Next Up: Breaking up the concrete patio so we can build the foundation ...

Comments? Questions? Suggestions? Talk to me: lisa@ibsys.com!

I actually like to think of this stage as "deConstruction" -- because we are tearing down in order to rebuild.

At any rate, it's a pretty exciting time. I thought I'd share a "before" photo. That's our dog, Aiko, checking out the scene:



And here's Aiko and the Amazing Technicolor Back Wall (after the initial tear-down):



As you can see, we've knocked down the shelter and the mudroom/back porch that was barely hanging on.

As we progress, we will add to this slideshow.

After a few days' delay, the vile mudroom and the equally obnoxious lean-to (for lack of a better name) are GONE!

Our contractor, Mark Hylland, of Oregon Home Services, had a bit of a delay getting the demolition crew out because of a tie-up at another job site. But once they got here, POOF! The stuff just disappeared.

The World's Largest Dumpster was wheeled up our steep driveway to accommodate the debris. Seriously -- even Hylland, who works with this stuff every day, walked into the house when the WLD was delivered and said, "Wow, that's the biggest Dumpster I've ever seen."

We were more than a little worried when they backed the WLD into our driveway. It was so tall, we were afraid it would knock off our eaves. Actually, so was the first driver, who left it curbside. But Hylland wanted it closer to the deconstruction zone, so he called them back with their "most aggressive driver" -- and he managed to squeak it in there.

If there's a Dumpster Driver Olympics, this guy would get a gold medal.

A Little About 'The House'

My husband, Mark (NOT the contractor) and I have lived in this house for 10 years. When we bought it, we knew we wanted to make changes. But I am glad we lived in it for a while before we embarked on this project (OK, maybe 10 years is more than "a while") because we are very certain about what we want/need now.

The house is what is fondly called "Old Portland Style" here in Portland, Ore. It was built in 1911 and has an awesome front porch, gorgeous oak floors with an inlay in the living and dining rooms, two bedrooms and (the only) bathroom on the main floor. The upstairs (converted attic) features two more bedrooms and some weird closet/storage spaces.

Basically, it's a sound home with a lot of promise and a lot of character -- I hope to look half as good when I am pushin' 100.

A Little About 'The Project'

Still, any house built nearly 100 years ago will have some "issues" -- and ours is no exception. Over the years, previous owners have done some dreadful things to it -- like laying down asphalt tile over the fir floors in the bedroom/bathroom part of the main floor. And also like building that vile mudroom as a cantilevered room -- without any means of support! The electrical wiring is a hodgepodge, the galvanized plumbing is old, and the kitchen has seen better days. I could go on ...

Our plan is to update the electrical and plumbing, build out and up from where the mudroom used to be, adding enough room to expand the kitchen (and completely re-do the kitchen while we're at it) and adding a water closet and a laundry room to the main floor while creating a master suite with a walk-through closet and a bathroom upstairs. Whew!

Yes, we know this will take several months. Yes, we know we won't have a kitchen for a long time. Yes, we know there will be strange people walking in and out of the house from sunup to sundown. Yes, we know it's not a cheap project. Yes, we love our house that much.

Yes, we are crazy ...

It's T-minus 72 hours or so before the vile mudroom in the back of our house goes to that great Dumpster in the sky.

And that's only the beginning ...

By the time our house remodel/addition is complete (a good six months from now, I am being told) my husband, Mark, and I will have spent more money on the project than we originally spent on the house. For our hard-earned money, we will be expanding our kitchen and updating it into a gourmet cooking/entertainment center, adding a laundry room on the main floor, creating a master bedroom suite with a large walk-in closet (cue the "Hallelujah Chorus") and adding 1.5 more baths.

We also will be traveling down a trail that neither of us have ever followed, being remodeling rookies. I expect the next six months will include massive frustrations, a bit of blood, buckets of sweat, a few tears (hopefully of joy) and many lessons learned.

I'd love it if you will follow us as we embark on our journey. It promises to be an exciting ride!

Comments? Questions? Suggestions? Talk to me: lisa@ibsys.com!