A wee pothole

The inevitable ferrying of things has begun.  Today I delivered two carloads.  The first was more satisfying than the second as the car was filled to the brim, the sun was shining, "Stoneage Romeos" was perfect on the CD player and Milo was off having a play-date with Jane and Gene, so I was free, Free, FREE!


The second trip was after Milo had gone to bed and the sun was going down.  A precious picture got broken in transit and the rollercoaster hills on the way there and back were a little scary in the half light.  Although I was unencumbered by small child the distance, darkness and the forthcoming interaction with the painter boss on Monday weighs a little heavily.


We're not happy with the job.  We're not happy with the finish.  And we're not happy that they haven't fulfilled the brief, and when it was brought to their attention, we were dismissed like we didn't know what we were asking for.  Not good.


Gene and I went through the house today and made a list of the problems. I think it ran to five pages.  Admittedly I left a line between dot points, but still, you get the idea.

• There's paint spatter all over the place on floors, skirts, beams.
• Many bits have been forgotten.  I think only two or three rooms are finished.
• The feature doors are streaky and appalling - hence no photos - although I will take some snaps tomorrow to show you just how bad the bad is.
• All the timber is supposed to be in Aquanamel Gloss.  Instead its been done in low sheen and looks chalky and white washed, rather than shiny and lush.
• Two of the three "completed" white brick walls have really poor coverage and need a really good going over with a small brush to get into the holes they didn't fill before they started. 
• Up until three minutes ago was sure they should've been finished in gloss, but after reading about various painted brick finishes, I'm not so sure.  Apparently brick with a gloss finish looks like plastic, and that's definitely not a look I'm after.  So painters get one point.

On Friday the painters left with the belief that the job was finished, except for the brick in Dad's study.  


We will see about that on Monday when boss comes to drop off his son to finish the wall.  We plan to ambush him with our scary list and hope he agrees that rushing off to the next job just isn't the right path to take.


My faith in human nature (in this regard) hangs by a thread...

Today was the day I cracked...

Even though it's all good, great, fabulous, fortunate, brilliant, all that, today I cracked.  I think it was inevitable.  I think the pace and fatigue has caught up with me.  But I also think the painters should've painted the timber in GLOSS not LOW SHEEN like I asked them to.


I'm going to go and eat some worms now.

One week on...

This has been the longest week in all of Christendom.  I can hardly believe that settlement was only last Thursday.


It's been bloody years since I spoke to so many people in a day, 
and had to absorb so much information, 
and pay so much attention, 
and make so many choices.
I'm sure I've staved off Alzheimer's for at least a few months with all the new neural pathways that've been forged through the endeavour.


So one week on we're probably still about three days from completing the painting, but our mark is being made.  Previously sad and beige, the House at Porter Street is evolving into a happy house of whiteness and brightness.

Family room: during

Lounge:  during
Today the vertical blinds were finally removed.
Oh happy day.

The thirstiest pine the painters have ever encountered in Mum's pine box.

This is how scary the brick wall looks when its only had one coat of paint rolled on.

We also went today and bought more lights, this time from Surrey Lighting:  

• a flouro strip for the kitchen, 
• an oyster for Dad's study (to replace the droopy frosted glass tulips he was at danger of bumping his head on), 
• a ball for the downstairs WC and 
• a standard lamp and a 43cm white orb pendant for my bedroom.

A white one of these, but with a tighter weave.

The sales fella warned me that the bigger of these orbs have a history of collapsing in humid weather.  As his words fell on my ears, the image of the lab sink I've given up flashed into my head, and I dug my heels in, determined not to let go of my private homage to Ray and Charles Eames.  So I went ahead and ordered it, all the while hoping that we've really, truly seen the last of Yasi.

Big things cost more than little things

What was I saying yesterday about getting Mum to agree to a painted tile floor?  Was I in-SANE?


The idea is now off the cards completely.  Suddenly.  Wholely.  Unequivocally.
Ator, the painter, had a quiet word in Mum's ear this morning, and that, as they say in the classics, is that. 


He did suggest, however, that polished floorboards would be a great look.  And now Mum is pushing that barrow. 


Funny how yesterday when I said "There's timber flooring under these tiles.  I'd polish those back if we can.  It's a no brainer."  Funny how then the idea was rubbish.  


So very very glad Ator isn't a fan of more vinyl parquetry...


Anyway, the main discovery of today - a truly exhausting day, by the way - is that since the kitchen is big, it's going to cost a lot to replace.


The actual cooking area is in the vicinity of 26.325 metres squared.  And the costing we have is for over $1000 a square metre.  How can that be value?


I mean I know you want a kitchen to last.  And I know you get what you pay for, but this seems a little silly.

This photo is from the sales brochure and obviously pre-painting...
We also do not have those stools.

My painted doors, however, look SENSATIONAL.  Will photograph tomorrow when they're finished.

Heaven is a crisp white ceiling...and possibly a dark, dark floor

At the finish of painters' day 2 the ceilings throughout are finished, and we're happy to report that the sad, beige gloom has been exorcised from every upper nook.

In the kitchen, the good
(the ceiling and the undercoated timber),
the bad (the intercom and the the air conditioner)
and the ugly (do I need to mention the vinyl tiles?).

The house is actually starting to look fantastic (the paint smell, however, is a little tricky to stomach).  I don't know how Mum's doing it - staying there during the process.  But she's like a little Trojan, standing guard at our new castle, protecting it from foes and invaders.

Today, while the white out continued, Mum and I welcomed a trio of tradespeople into our realm to receive our vision for the future.  

There was: 

• the blind man, Hans, from David Rice Interiors, to discuss blinds and shutters
• the kitchen man, Rob, recommended when we bought our appliances, to discuss the new kitchen and possibly some of the other building - although I'm not sold on him.  He was nice enough, but had an awful mullet
• Kim Hands from Kitchen Squared, to talk more about the kitchen.  I liked her and she was really knowledgeable about all sorts of things I hadn't considered like potential problems with the fridge and the dishwasher.  Oh, and the floors.  

Yes, the floors.  We've been told that since the kitchen sits on top of the tiles, if we want to do anything with them, we need to do it first - before the new kitchen is built.  

As discussed in entry Underfoot (15/01/11) there is an issue with the expanse that is the kitchen/dining/family rooms floor.  It's not because it's shabby, or in bad nick, because it's actually in frighteningly good condition - it's just the colour - so very mustard.  So once again I timidly mentioned painting the tiles to Mum.  

Mum is no great adventurer or trail-blazer.  She isn't cutting edge and she doesn't like to take risks.  So the thought of painting a tiled floor is something that's really challenging for her to come at.  She has a friend who had an industrial sort of rubberised finish put over tiles and it's ended up in a world of misery (she's always on her 70+ year old knees rubbing off scuff marks).  But I don't want to do that.  I don't want a light or white floor - because I don't want to be a slave to it.  

I want to pick a dark colour from the slate tiles in the hallway to marry the floor to the raven Caesarstone of the benches in the new kitchen.  With the crisp white everywhere else and the blue of the back splash it will look just amazing.

The most encouraging thing was that Mum asked me to go and ask the painters, Roy, Ator and Ash, if they know how and if they would be willing to do it. We discussed the process and the stinkiness (from the oil based primer) and they said "Yes of course".

I think I'm going to be able to bring Mum round, especially if I don't push too hard.      

And I've also demonstrated my own ability to compromise by walking away from my dream of the big laboratory sink.  The kitchen lady pointed out that if someone were to drop something heavy - like a cast iron pot - onto the sink, it would crack and then you'd have a whole shit cart of problems.  None of which exist with stainless steel.  It's a risk I can't afford to take without buckets of bucks.

So today I said goodbye. But I can't promise I won't still yearn just a little.

A call to arms

Folks, we urgently need a builder.  Someone who can come recommended and who can start work straight away (or as straight away as possible).


The brief includes:

• installing a doorway in a partition wall
• removing a gas heater and fixing the plaster wall
• removing a vanity unit and fixing the plaster wall and possibly the cork-tiled floor
• removing vinyl tiles in bathroom and WC and replacing with something else
• removing a built-in desk and shelf and replacing with floating shelves
• removing a built-in cabinet and replacing with floating shelves
• removing iron pool fencing and replacing with glass pool fence

If anyone knows of anyone I should contact, please step forward and share.


Sandshoe.

About Space...

After numerous fruitless outings dragging my mother and my child around, I finally took off for half an hour on my own and managed to achieve an end:  the purchase of a pendant light for the dining room, and two for the kitchen - all from aboutspace.net.au.

The replacement for these, my second favourite brass carriage lights

Are two of these, which kind of look like an inverted salad bowl and are therefore ideal for the kitchen.

And it with great sadness (!) that we say farewell to this precious twinkling ornament (which is destined for glory in the heavens above our favourite stationery shop in the universe, therightinvite.com.au.)

And we say hello to this illuminated glass doughnut.

The painters started today, on time and on schedule.  Uneasy about being covered by drop-sheets, we left them to it, returning at 4pm to find things started and somewhat frightening.  You know how it is when you see timber with only one coat of paint.  Or a brick wall rolled without the grout brushed.  It's a little unsettling.  


But I have reminded myself to have faith in the vision...it's going to be great.