Some tips on saving money while remodeling

I took a few days off writing and nearly forgot what I was relating. I had to go back to my previous entry.
After showing the young man out I went to retrieve my fridge components. Disturbed not to see them where I had left them, I went in search for the children. I found two little girls in the back yard building forts.
"See what we found?" the smaller one asked.
The older (and more knowledgeable, though not necessarily wiser ) one looked nervous.
I sighed.
"Sorry," the older one cleaned up the trays while the younger one fussed at the destruction of her most precious creation.
Now, to wash them again. . .
What a learning experience this has been. It has been exhausting, frustrating, and – at times- very gross, but I can hardly wait to get going on our project every morning. I wonder if I did this full time if I would always be this tired.
Steve says he has figured out more of the bizarre wiring. This is a relief to me as we certainly don't want to sell a house that is unsafe. We also do not have the budget to hire someone to redo the entire electrical system.
The past few days the kids have been scraping the landscaping rocks away from the edge of the house so Steve can repair the skirting. It was separated one place from another, pushed in under the home in places, and twisted around itself in others. It certainly did not add to the curb appeal.
Today I was waiting for a kid to come out to help me so I started pulling at the garbled aluminum. To my amazement, it straightened out rather easily. That skirting is resilient stuff. Steve came out and looked at it and said I had added five hundred dollars to the property value. Not quite so much, perhaps, but it does look better.
Last week, while priming the outside of the house with rollers, the kids and I noticed we weren't sufficiently getting in the grooves of the siding. We used a brush to get between them, but it was slow work. I estimated it would take twice as long to get the grooves as it had to prime. I was wrong – so very wrong.
Steve took up a brush and began painting the grooves. By the end of the first day of it he had realized I was right in my belief that we needed a sprayer to do the job. By the end of the second day – after finishing one-third of the house – he admitted it to me.
We now own a paint sprayer. It is nice, it sprays smoothly, and it took Steve one and a half hours to paint two-thirds of the house's exterior. Not only has he finished priming the outside of the house, he also primed two rooms, six shutters, the inside of the kitchen cabinets, and two ceilings.
Since the rocks were mostly pulled away from the deck, it seemed wise to have the boys paint the lattice work at the base. I helped a little bit, but I have to say they were more patient with the job. I “supervised.”
Susan stopped by for a few hours to help with some painting. She and the girls primed the small bathroom together. Susan is so patient with her little helpers and now has a proper painting shirt, completely covered with the primer the girls' were supposed to be putting on the walls.
Thankfully, we are still quite a bit below our budget. We managed to get a free toilet after all. We have discovered the joys of mis-tinted paints. Someone was giving away free scrap lumber and Steve was able to use it to replace the flooring in the master bedroom. Another person was remodeling their house and wanted to get rid of their old doors – the exact fits for our needs. This house is going to be a conglomeration of other people's houses, but I doubt it will be noticeable.
Last week, Steve took out the upper cabinets on the north side of the kitchen. What a difference it makes. The room used to be a hallway with appliances in it and now it is a cozy kitchen.
I am pleased to report the smell has dissipated in the majority of the house. The bathrooms still worry me, but I hope the floor painting will take care of that. Of course, at the moment, everything smells of paint.
Steve let Isaiah rip the ballisters, the rails and the posts off the deck today. Could a boy be happier? He unscrewed the rusted hardware before practicing his taekwondo kicks to finish off the job. Isaiah graciously allowed Oliver to do some of the kicking. It is nice to see those lessons have done some good.
When I left, the deck was no more than a platform and steps – no rails of any sort. Steve and Isaiah stayed down there after we left for Oliver's paper route so they could reassemble some of it. He sent me a picture of the progress with the caption,
“One, one post, ah, ah, ah.”
Do you know Steve's favorite Sesame Street character?
I think he is a little frustrated with how slow that went, but I didn't really expect him to get more than that done. He had to take a post that was not made for a corner and make it work on a corner. It was bound to take some configuring. Thankfully, he excels in conundrums.

The many uses for baking soda

We got up early this morning, not on purpose, but we did it anyway. Steve was going to get an early start and he woke me up. I would have been able to get back to sleep had it not been for Mercy deciding it was time to rise. Once she's up, I always like to share the misery, so I woke up the rest of the kids.
The benefit of this was that we got to the house sooner than we anticipated. This time I decided to bring lunch so we wouldn't end up spending more than we made in one day. The kids, being kids, were disappointed we weren't going to go back to Chile's. By the time I finally got around to feeding them, though, they were grateful for what they got.
My project for the day was to scrub all the floors and finish cleaning the refrigerator. I also wanted to try to frost a design on a couple of the house mirrors to improve the appeal. While I go about my tasks Steve and the kids do their own things. They occasionally interrupt me to be redirected (the kids) or to ask a question (Steve), but I am generally left alone to do my thing.
I decided the best way to tackle the distinctive odor of dogs-not-taken-out-for-walks-often-enough was to first bleach the sub-floor, then sprinkle it with baking soda to absorb the water and – hopefully – more of the smell. I swept the first room thoroughly and got down on my hands and knees to scrub. When that exciting task was complete I sprinkled the soda. After waiting a few minutes – during which I checked on Oliver's progress with the glass spray – I came back and swept the baking soda across the floor to be sure it covered all the stink. I decided to wait to see how all this would turn out before starting the next floor.
In the meantime, I rejoined Oliver at the mirror. Oliver is a precise type of fellow. He gets this from Steve. I was surprised, therefore, to see my eldest standing in front of the mirror, paint can in hand, staring in wonderment at an unrecognizable shape before him.
“What happened?” I tried to keep the censure from my voice.
“This,” he held the can toward me, never taking his eyes from his project, “is harder than it looks.”
I didn't make a noise, but I did roll my eyes a little while he wasn't looking. After all, the directions in the book where I go the idea were very clear. I took the can.
“I think the problem is that you were supposed to spray in short bursts. Did you spray in short bursts or did you do it all at once?”
Oliver took the stencil and wiped it off before handing it to me, “I'm not sure. I guess I wasn't paying attention to the stream.”
I took the can, carefully positioned the stencil, and sprayed the mirror frosting in beautifully short bursts. Then I took the stencil away.
Hmmm.
As it turns out, whatever method Oliver was using was better than mine. Not only were my blobs unrecognizable, but there was paint in places no paint should go. Thankfully, the paint comes off rather easily with a little window cleaner and baking soda.
I love baking soda

My day off

I have a love/hate relationship with Craigslist. On the one hand, I love getting a good deal on things I need for this project. On the other hand, I spend way to much time looking at things I really don't need.
For instance, I am not in the market for a million dollar home, but when I see one pop up because of a word search I've done, I can't keep myself from looking at it. As these things typically go, I move from one inane listing to the other. Before I knew it, I had spent thirty minutes looking at homes way out of my price range in places I have no desire to visit, much less live.
Today, however, I found paint for ten dollars a gallon. They had never been opened, and, as long as I don't mind the colors she picked for her living room and dining room, I can save a little more money on this project. Since I have very little skill in the color choosing department, I don't really care. Her choices are every bit as good – and probably better – than mine.
I also found a couple free toilets. I only need one and the person wants them both gone. What on earth am I going to do with a second toilet? As it turns out, it is irrelevant because the toilet benefactor gave them to someone else – someone who didn't hesitate to take both.
Today I didn't actually go to the house. I thought the kids and I should stay home to get some cleaning done. I can't say that actually happened. I spent too much time on Craigslist.

Oh the smell. . .

>This morning, we drove up ready to work. I am glad Steve warned me about the smell. However, some things cannot be communicated with words. Suffice it to say, all windows and doors remained open today.

My goals today were to clean out the garage, bleach the refrigerator (which had been left shut and unplugged), and rip up every inch of carpeting in the house. I had no idea what Steve's goals were. I told him to do only things the rest of us couldn't because I didn't want him wasting his abilities on grunt work.

Oliver and Isaiah set to work immediately on the garage. It was filled with debris and miscellaneous items, but it was a straightforward job. They finished it in less than an hour.

I began by removing the carpeting in the master bedroom. It was not required of me to take out any padding in that room because there had been none. On an interesting note, under the low-pile rug, was three-quarter inch oak. The original sub-floor was apparently sagging and the previous owners had decided the best course of action was to use expensive wood to straighten it out.

I next attacked the carpet in the master bathroom. Is there anyone who really thinks carpet in a bathroom is a good idea? Not if they think at all. It was a slimy job. I wore gloves. At least it came up easily.

The carpet in the living room was original to the house. It was a well-laid piece and extended from the living room through the back hall. The uprooting of such an historical artifact is sure to unearth some smells. At one time, there was a not-so-housetrained- pet living there, I believe.

Once I got the living room and hall carpet outside, I proceeded to the back bedroom. By this time, I had come to the conclusion that I should be cutting the carpet into small pieces to make the disposal easier. Oliver came with a sharp too and began cutting it into strips. This made the tearing and carrying easier on my rapidly fatiguing body.

The back bedroom had some stubborn sections of carpet I decided to leave for later. I removed the bulk of it and pulled the remains of the disintegrated pad off the floor. I was relieved to see that this floor was in the best shape yet of all I had seen.

Then Oliver began cutting the carpet from the second bathroom.

I am convinced there was not a nastier job done on that house today. I am nearly as sure that there will never be another such job. The smell in the house originated from that little room. I helped my brave son from time to time, but had to keep leaving to force back the gag reflex.

Go outside. Breath, Becky, breath.

While I was outside getting some air I heard loud noises coming from the bowels of the house. I hurried back in to see if Oliver was okay.

“What on earth is going on?”

Oliver, a little sheepishly, “Those are my battle cries. I'm going to get this junk out of here.”

“It sounds like you're throwing up.”

Wrinkled nose, “It smells like someone did.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” I snort, “I've never smelled vomit that bad before.”

Unfortunately, there are some remnants still left to portions of the wall, particularly behind the toilet. Neither Oliver nor I could dislodge them. I hope Steve has a strong stomach the day he decides to attack that job.

What do you suppose Steve was doing during this time? Exactly as I said, something we couldn't.

There is a mysterious thing about all modern houses. It is called an electrical box. I know nothing of that realm and I mostly try to pretend it doesn't exist. As long as everthing runs, I don't have any need to think about it.

We have not turned on the electricity yet because Steve wanted to do some rewiring of said box prior to any juice flowing through those wires. That was a good idea.

When he opened the box to inspect it, numerous cables and wires – still attached to whatever it is those things are attached to – came tumbling out. Steve made a noise between a laugh and a shout, to which I came running.

“Look at that!” he exclaimed.

“Wow,” I said, hoping that was the proper response.

“Who does wiring this way?” he was tugging on things and shining a light into holes.

“I doubt it was done by a professional,” I offered.

“Look at this,” he pointed to something and shook his head.

I thought I'd better admit to my ignorance before he asked my opinion.

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

Steve is a good teacher and fairly patient about my lack of mechanical aptitude, so he proceeded to explain.

“It is supposed to look like this,” he pointed to a jumble that looked identical to the one he was scowling at.

“Ah,” I wished I hadn't come in, “I see.”

“Yeah,” he picked up a tool I didn't recognize.

I left him cutting wires that I hope were supposed to be cut so I could go back to my carpet-tearing.

Steve also yanked out a toilet today. This was enormous fun for the girls. They didn't know one could do such things with a toilet and, seeing their dad carry it out to the garage by himself solidified the knowledge that he is the strongest man on earth.

I wish I could be just as convinced. The water heater must be replaced and it is just a bit too much for one man to handle. My great might was called into service as Steve and I hoisted the existing one out of it's cabinet. I've decided not to become a plumber.

Clae weeded the flower beds. I don't claim she finished them, but she did manage to accumulate a large pile of weeds. After weeding for a brief period ourselves, Oliver and I decided it would be a good idea to have Steve pick up some spray-on weed-killer;

Isaiah was given the unenviable job of cutting the first two carpets into manageable pieces. This was done outside on the driveway where he also was instructed to watch Mercy who has no sense of where the driveway ends and the road begins. It did not take long before Isiah was worn out and asking if we could drive Mercy around to get her to go to sleep.

I wasn't sure how much help we could expect from Sophia, but she did her best. She carried tools from one person to another, entertained Mercy from time to time, and even hauled out some carpet pieces. She is a very sleepy little girl tonight.

I was very pleased with the children's work and behavior today. There were a few differences, but, on the whole, they got along and did as they were told. They are looking forward to going again.

This is a good thing as there are walls and floors to be painted, cupboards to be sanded and repaired, bathrooms to be cleaned, floors to be laid, siding to be installed, a deck to paint, lawn to be mowed, flowers to be planted, doors to be hung, windows to be replaced, shutters to paint and rehang (did I mention they are pink?), and I didn't quite finish that fridge I was going to clean out today.

My first glimpse

Here we are, owners of – what appears from the pictures to be – a very ugly two-bedroom trailer. Being, by nature, a fairly cautious person, it is a slight surprise to me that I am a willing participant in this scheme. Unlikely it may be, but here I am, ready to dig in and make this thing happen.

The issues are not big, but they are many. The house is quite an unlovely shade of blue and it has some weather damage to the siding. This damage is, of course, on the most obvious portion of the structure. The back of the house looks perfect.

The porch was perhaps replaced shortly before Sherman's march to the sea. Of course this house would not have been in his path, but it may as well have been. Steve thinks he can rip off the rails and spindles and leave the floor. We'll see about that. At the least, he will be forced to replace the steps when someone falls through. Also, that lovely appendage to the house has lattice-work instead of skirting around the bottom. I do not believe skirting is very expensive, but as for installing it, I cannot say.

I might actually be crazy.

I had envisioned a different life for myself, but as is typically the case, God has other plans for me. I had also not intended to have five children and home school them all. I certainly was never going to go into a remodeling business with my husband.

What happened was so different from my plans and so evident of God's hand I could not deny His intervention. Though I am a concrete, systematical, do-it-by the book person, I found myself doing a wild freefall into a life only the Creator of the universe could have planned.

Steve got back from a military stint wanting to pursue his dream of owning a business. I wanted him to come home, provide a stable income, and help the kids catch up in the math they had neglected while he was gone. I was ready to do battle.

One day he came home and showed me an ad for a cheap mobile home that needed to be remodeled. My initial reaction was to dismiss it, then to be annoyed when he continued to bring it up. When he asked me to pray about it, there was little else I could do.

I prayed about it alright.
“Please, God, help Steve find a real job so he will let go of this silly scheme.”

After a week, Steve saw I was not going to take his request to heart so he called the seller and told her we weren't interested. For two days, the guilt sat heavily on my heart. I looked into his e-mail, got her address, and asked her if she still had the home.

I normally don't interfere in things like this and I think my husband was a little shocked that I did this time. He came to me and asked why I had. I told him I didn't feel as though we had spent enough time in prayer together.

Finally, we prayed together about it. We didn't come up with any sort of clear answer. He still wanted to buy the house, I still wanted him to do something else.

We decided to lay out a fleece before God. If the seller would come down to half her current price and the mobile home park would give us two free months of rent, we would do it. Steve set out to meet with the seller and the park manager.

He called me about an hour after he met with them. The park would only give us one free month, but the current owner was willing to come down to half her price, we could keep her deposit, and, as it was the beginning of a new month, she had already paid for the month.

He signed the papers the next day.