I have a history of doing things sensible people might avoid.
Like on Friday, the eve of a potentially great weekend with no plans and decent weather.
All I had left to do was clean the house.
That was it; then the weekend was ours.
We haven’t had one of those in a while.
So, of course, at 11:45 a.m. I decided it was a fabulous (and sensible) time to start ripping out the floor in our downstair’s bathroom.
The kids were hungry. The house was still a mess. The laundry was unwashed, unfolded, unputaway.
One of my best ideas yet.
And, I forgot to enlighten Matt.
Sensible was unfortunately the opposite of this so-called “plan.”
But, like the pit bull I am, I forged ahead. Until I got nervous.
See, our very old house has a lot of “character,” a well-lived-in kind of quality.
Nothing and I mean NOTHING is square or level or fixable without some very expensive work.
Apparently, the teeny tiny bathroom was no different.
For weeks, months, years, I have been complaining about and in a constant war with the pee smell.
I blamed it on the boys for obvious reasons.
Even with all the wisdom Google could give me, the odor still lingered.
Previous owners had installed one of those fake hardwood floors in the bathroom (for some reason unknown to man), and the floor had started to sink in around the toilet trapping lots of lovely smelling liquids.
As I forced the hammer underneath to remove the floor (I couldn’t find Matt’s crow bar), I began to realize the mighty Ginia, the fearless home improvement pit bull, might be in over her head.
I confessed to Matt (that was a fun phone call!), and after a long day’s work, the poor guy hauled his gung-ho wife and four kinda cranky minions to the store to fix the project I had sensibly started without his knowledge.
The next morning, Matt called in reinforcements and they replaced an entire section of sub-floor (oops!) and did all the preporatory work so I could lay down vinyl tile (which Matt had to do the majority of as well).
Now it’s Monday. Poor Matt worked from sun up until midnight on Saturday, all Sunday afternoon and was up quite literally at the crack of dawn for the day’s cattle sale.
He is sore, battle-worn and probably still more than a little annoyed at my whimsical idea that cost him his weekend of catch-up on chores.
But he agrees that the room is a HUGE improvement.
And at least for a week or two it will smell like silicone grout and sawdust rather than pee.
Next time, I hope to think a little more BEFORE I get the tools out. Well, at least that’s the plan.
Check out the before- and after-pictures!
|Oops! Not a simple project when floor is rotting under toilet. FUN!|
|Thanks to Terry, we have a whole new floor!|
|ANOTHER VIEW OF AFTER!!!!|
Categories: Frugal homemaking on the farm
My name is Ginia Oehlschlager and I'm a small-town gal from Missouri. Join me as I document my crazy life on the farm with my husband and four kids. I'm always looking for frugal, simple ways to live the life God set before me. Where faith, family and fun come together on the farm.