Happy New Year!

My christmas wish was answered!
We have ceilings and walls. I can’t even begin to tell you how excited I am about this. Dance around the room, howl at the moon happy.
(way happier than some tiny cup of yogurt could make me – but, still a good ad campaign)

did you get that?

WE HAVE CEILINGS AND WALLS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have pictures of everything and stories to tell, but my cameras downstairs at Butters and I’m at Kelli’s house about to go to bed. But it’s been so long since I’ve posted anything that I just couldn’t hold it in any longer.

WALLS!!!!

There’s still a lot of work to do – little bits of sheetrock here and there and ever more mudding and sanding – but we’re getting there.
We even bought our paint today – Lemon Soufflé for the kitchen walls (see my post about our test kitchen) and Parmesan for the walls in our living room and dining room.
Is it really that surprising that we picked food colors? And we weren’t even hungry!
We almost went all desserts, with crème brulée, but that was a bit dark, and, not illogically, didn’t go well with the soufflé.

See why it’s time for me to go to bed?
I’m a bit giddy. That, and it’s time for me to take some more Emergen-C and slather on more and more lotion on my hands. Sheet rock dust is turning my hands into corn husks. ick.

I promise I’ll post more this week – pictures and pictures and stories. We have a new friend that’s made this all possible and I don’t think I can give him a proper introduction without a photo. Not to worry – I have the perfect one already.

1.75 Tons

 

Inside Out

 

Yep, all that was inside Butters.
Then we (mostly Thomas, but I helped) loaded all that you see up there on Thomas’ uncle Jerry’s 30 foot trailer and he and his dad took it to the dump.
The 1.75 tons comes in here. The dump charges you by weight, and our trailer full o’ Butters was 1.75 tons.

Seriously, let’s think about that for a second. Thomas tore that all down (as I think I’ve admitted before, I’m a bit of a wuss with the panelling) and I carried it all outside into that massive pile.

The top layer of that pile is another story. Icky night that was.
It was the day that we found out we needed to get rid of all of the kudzu, now. Thomas had pulled up the carpet in our office-to-be and found a nasty wood floor beneath.
So he started pulling it out, finding an even nastier wood subfloor beneath that.
Enter Kim, fresh off a long day of work.

I get in and Thomas gives me a crowbar and hammer and I start actually tearing out.
Turns out, it’s just panelling that I’m a wuss with. Floor? Well, rotted wood floor? I got that.
Ok, it wasn’t as easy as all that, but I was able to handle it. To a point.
I’m not sure what brought about the point, but it came. It may have had something to do with my foot repeatedly breaking through the subfloor, or thinking about the fact that it was about 9:30 pm and I had to be at work at 6 am, but I finally broke down and cried. In my defense, I think it should be known that I was holding the aforementioned crowbar and hammer – I mean how girly can I possibly be holding those?! Ok. I dropped them just prior to really crying.

Which sent Thomas into a concerned tizzy trying to figure out how I’d hurt myself now. Once he got me to talk (really a hard thing for me once I’ve started crying – ask my Dad, who learned that during a transatlantic call, poor guy). Anyway, once he got me talking, I think I gasped something along the lines of “we bought a rotted, termite infested house full of rat poo!” (yeah, I’ve left some of the more glamorous bits out – don’t worry about the pests though – both were WAY prior and have been dealt with).

A sweaty, dirty and kinda snotty (me) hug came next with Thomas turning into Mr. We Can DO IT!!! The Engine. He just kept reassuring me in his infallibly logical way; pointing out all we’ve done so far and how it’s going to be fine. He and his dad would be mudding the floor we were tearing out tomorrow and it would be done by the time I got home from work. It wouldn’t look like a pile of pallets exploded, it would be a nice, smooth concrete floor ready to be tiled. We would take care of the kudzu that weekend; he’d already called in help. He and his dad would take the trailer full of Butters away. . .all the while telling me how proud he is of me and what a trooper I’ve been. How he wouldn’t have been able to do this without me. How much he loves me. All the good things that I needed to hear just then. He’s a good man, that one.

It seems like that’s become our turning point – Thomas has even said that he was feeling just as beat down as I was and it took my breaking down to bring him up. He had to be the optimist and it helped put things in perspective, which showed him that it really was going to be ok.

whew. When I cry, things happen!

I don’t normally have photographic records of me crying – and there aren’t any shots here, but there are pics I took that lead up to the crying. . .

all that was in there!

The Pile at Night – that night

The Floor Mid-Tear Out

Rotted Floor

One of the places my foot went through

Thomas’ Dad (Tommy) mudding the Floor the Next Day

Thomas Mudding the Floor the next day

Butters Torn Asunder

 

Butters doesn't look like a real house anymore!

It’s been an interesting few weeks. We’ve been working, but it’s the sort of work that just makes you say, “Look. what. we. did.” As in, “Oh shit. Now we’ve done it.”

It’s all for the best, in that we’re getting the big stuff done now, and right, rather than patching things for the time being, but. . .yikes. Thomas and I are both more than a little daunted right now, but there’s a big Butters’-shaped light at the end of the tunnel. It’s just such a long tunnel. . .

So what have we done, you ask?

We ripped out most of the panelling and ceiling downstairs in the kitchen and living room. It was original panelling (from the 1940’s – 1944, to be exact, as you’ll see in a minute) and someone had painted over all of it in the living room to make it look nice and dingy.
Plus, it’s just old and nasty looking, so. . .sheetrock it will be. (I know what it is now, but I’m still not sure if it’s two words or one)
So, we did that two weekends ago, and today we tore out the wall that I was so hoping that we could.

Once we tore off the panelling on that wall, we could see that it had a light on the ceiling (in the middle of the wall), so obviously, it wasn’t there when the house was built. “Load-bearing” “floor joists” “some phrase that I can’t remember now, but indicates that you’d best not mess with this thing” – I’m learning a whole new vocabulary branch. wee.
The our friend Dave (of wood floor fame) took a look at it and reassured us that yes, we could knock it out. (he went to school for architecture and may just be the smartest guy in Georgia (we love you Dave!!!!))

 Tomorrow, while I’m working away at. . .work, Thomas and Dave will be replacing the wires downstairs (“junction boxes” – another new term for me).
Last weekend, I went home for my cousin Nick’s wedding – I’ll have a few pics of that in here once I have them ready to go – I got an upgrade of Aperture yesterday and am still getting the hang of all the changes. 

To set the record straight. Thomas has torn everything out – I’m too much of a wuss. I tried. It didn’t go very well. I AM good at taking out trim, but the walls were tougher than me.
So, I’ve been cleaning everything up – taking piles and piles (and piles) of stuff out to the pile in the back (I said there were lots of piles!) or shoveling smaller debris into our garbage can or those crazy strong (and expensive) contractor trash bags.
Sounds little, but when I started, Thomas had a pile that was up to my chest in the living room – and that was before he started on the kitchen, so you get an idea of my task.

Oh, but I did get to find neat things that had been in the wall. A dogtag from an A positive baptist (we’ll be googling him), an old seal stamp thing, an old pack of Wings cigarettes, and the coolest of all, part of an old Atlanta Journal from April 8, 1944. It’s the sports page and the headline is about the Crackers playing at the Federal Pen with the Fort McPherson folks.
For those of you not reading this in Atlanta, a little backstory.
The Atlanta Crackers were the local baseball team (the legendary Ernie Harwell ((of Detroit Tigers fame)) was their announcer!), and they played at Ponce de Leon park. Umm, Kelli and I work there now! Our Whole Foods Market is on part of the land that once was the park. There are lots of old photographs of the park all over the café, if you come visit (which you should – it’s only the coolest WFM out there)
So there’s that – but there’s also the bit about the McPherson players. Fort McPherson is an army base about three blocks from our house.
Click here for more about Mr. Harwell and the Crackers. 

Enough of the chatting – you’re here for the pictures. I know it. you know it. here you go.

Butters doesn’t look much like a house downstairs right now.

Our Front Door to Be

Some of Our Finds

The Big Pile

The Bigger Pile (it’s bigger still now)

Thomas in the Butters’ Shell

Bigger Hole Where Wall Once Was

Spooky Thomas

Thomas starts on the wall

Look How Much Room!

A “Before” shot of the living room

More of how the living room used to look

This is the wall that is no more!

 

and now I’m going to sleep!