Tag Archives: projects

Baby barn work continues.

 

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about my husband during our long and happy marriage, it’s that he doesn’t like to rush things.

Projects that should take a day, take a week. Projects that should take a week, take a month. Projects that should take a month, well… you get the idea. He’s been working on our big barn for what seems like forever and it’s still not finished.

 

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So our baby barn/shed needs to be torn down and rebuilt. Husband decided the frame of the building and the existing wood on the roof were sound, and is attempting to tear down the rotten parts and rebuild around them.

First off is the old shingles.

 

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There’s no real reason for this picture other than the fact I love to see a man sweeping.

It’s porn for women.

 

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But I digress…..

 

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Shingles off the front side, tar paper off the lower half.

 

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Section of roof off… so he can remove the section of wall below.

 

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It was at this point he decided to level the building.

 

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And that involved stomping all my flowers into the dirt, which made me….

 

 

And run for a trowel.

 

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Flowers dug up…

 

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Potted and moved to the relative safety of the big barn porch.

Of course by the time I’d turned around, he’d stolen bricks and edgers from my garden beds to raise the building.

 

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Which made me….

 

 

And run to gather them up before I was left borderless.

 

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One new section of wall in place, old section of roof replaced.

 

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If you’re wondering how long this operation took?

An entire 4 day holiday weekend.

Yes, 4 friggin’ days!

Reason being, my husband is the least organized man on earth and had none of the materials he needed when he started this project and kept having to run to the store… a half an hour away. He can also never find any of his tools and spends 20 minutes cursing and kicking things over looking for them until he gives up and asks me.

Of course he also had to get a haircut, have breakfast with the boys, hit a yard sale, drive an hour to complain to the man who painted his truck last year because it’s already starting to chip, visit his brother, sharpen the lawn mower blades, stop at the pub for a beer and wash his car. Did he have to do all that while trying to rebuild the baby barn?

No. He did not.

But now you see why weekend projects take months.

Fast forward to Monday afternoon. We lay out and cut tar paper…

 

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While a storm moves in.

 

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Have you ever tried to lay tar paper on a roof in the wind and rain?

 

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It’s not fun. Yours truly was on the other ladder and had to put  her phone inside so there aren’t any pictures of me soaking wet and wind blown…. laying across the paper as it was ripping off the roof in a deluge.

Good times.

 

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At this rate, I think the project will be done by the time Elon Musk reaches Mars….

Or Richard Simmons stages a comeback.

 

 

Stay tuned.

 

 

 

 

So…. this is happening.

 

You may remember me posting pictures of our little red barn/shed.

We use it as a shed, but it was originally a small barn complete with horse. The horse is long gone…. and 40 odd years later?

The barn/shed is almost gone as well.

 

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Falling apart?

You could say that…

 

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Rotted wood?

 

 

The mere fact that it’s still standing never ceases to amaze me.

 

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It’s horrible. An eye sore on our otherwise lovely property. The bane of my existence for a long, long time.

It’s state of disrepair is the main reason we spent $50,000 and 7 years of nights and weekends building a new and much larger barn.

 

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The plan? All the mowers and weed whackers, the snow blower, the tractor and assorted yard tools that were in the shed/barn were supposed to go into the new barn…. and the eyesore would be torn down.

 

 

But that never happened, and now the husband….. who has already filled the new barn with CRAP wants to rebuild the shed/barn to continue housing the mowers, tractor etc.

So this is happening.

 

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Husband deemed part of the interior framing sound, and started what I thought was deconstruction of the back half…. which needs to be completely rebuilt..

Now my idea of deconstruction consists of ripping off the roof, then the walls. The husband’s?

I’m not quite sure.

 

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He put up a new piece of wood…

 

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Ostensibly to brace the roof… though why you need to brace something you’re tearing down is beyond me.

 

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But look at the piece he’s bracing! Rotted doesn’t begin to describe it…

Then…

 

 

Yeah. He trimmed it…

The rotted piece of wood.

 

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He sawed off a section of wall… by hand, even though the chainsaw was right there.

 

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And made a bigger hole.

 

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He elongated the brace….

 

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And added wood running along the bottom.

 

 

He was supposed to be tearing it down…. so WTH?

Naturally I had to ask.

And naturally, he wouldn’t answer.

It was hot, he was cranky and I dared to question his technique.

Silly me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Because when Rustoleum says red? They mean red.

 

Every few years it’s time to repaint the bulkhead doors.

 

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They’re metal and tend to see a lot of abuse.

Rain, snow, and baking sun all take their toll… and since the husband disappears every time the paint brushes come out?

 

 

The job falls to me.

I usually go out with some sandpaper to smooth and remove the flakes… but this spring the husband bought an old sander at a yard sale. Old.. with a capital O.

So he tossed it at me and said it would be much easier than my sandpaper.

 

 

From the look of the cord it was from the 1950’s…. and I think that was the poundage as well because just lifting it hurt my wrist. So when he came back to check my progress? I was using the sandpaper again.

Which… because he’s a man and can never be wrong… made him determined to prove his $5 purchase was worth while.

 

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He got no argument from me.

I stood back, nodded sagely and mumbled yes dear, that’s so much easier dear, at appropriate intervals.

Momma didn’t raise no fool.

 

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He sanded that baby from top to bottom.

 

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Inside and out… even though I rarely paint the interior.

BTW, if you search Google images for power sander memes?

 

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Anyway… when we moved into this house, the doors were painted a barn red so that’s what I’ve always repainted them.

Until this year, when I couldn’t find my usual brand of metal paint in barn red and went with Rustoleum’s Regal Red.

 

 

It was a bad idea.

Very bad.

Really, really bad.

Because when Rustoleum says red?

 

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They mean red!

Fire engine red.

Candy apple red.

Holy Crap that’s redRED!

It’s positively blinding.

 

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On the bright side, the doors do now match my hanging geranium.

 

 

And the summer sucking project turns another corner.

 

Yeah, we’re still at it.

 

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Another corner turned, another paper wall flapping in the breeze.

 

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I am officially sick of vinyl siding.

If you’ve ever put it on, you know what I mean. If you’re thinking of putting it on? Don’t. Second mortgage the house, sell a future unnamed child… whatever it takes…. and hire a professional. Yes they charge an utter fortune, and now I know why. This stuff will drive you to drink.

 

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Yes, he screwed that in place. And no, he was too annoyed to answer my innocent WTF question.

Hell, even the dog looked confused.

(Not ours, we were dog sitting for the farmers over the weekend. Dogs, chickens…. whatcha got? We’ll watch them all!)

Please let it be noted I cringed when I saw this –

 

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Because when your husband pays $4,000 to fix scratches and paint his old truck? And then uses it as a workbench?

 

 

Grrrr.

 

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But the back was finished…

 

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With the third side well on it’s way.

And in case you’re thinking all I do is take blog pictures while he’s hard at work, think again.

 

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I have to take up the mowing slack this project has left behind.

 

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And trust me, it’s a lot of mowing.

 

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I earn my keep.

 

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If only I had a little help…

 

The project turns a corner…

 

 

Alternative title:  If we’d known it would be this much work, we never would have started.

A word of advice from a blogger who’s sore, covered in paint and has splinters where one should never have splinters..

 

 

Don’t remodel that old rotting garage. Let it fall to pieces on it’s own, bury the refuse and park on the street….. because what started out as “Let’s throw some vinyl siding on that puppy”  has turned into  “Oh, holy crap… we have to replace that too?”

 

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We’ve been working all weekend long, every weekend since mid August and never seem to get anywhere. The paper walls didn’t help, but neither did all the rotten studs and trim…. and once you start replacing a little, you have to replace a lot.

 

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So the woodshed has new walls.

 

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And we turned another corner.

 

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And ripped off more trim…

 

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And cursed the previous homeowner who used rusty railroad spikes instead of nails to Hell and back numerous times.

 

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Then the husband said, “We might as well put a new door in here too.”

(At which point I started cursing him to Hell and back under my breath.)

 

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Have you ever tried putting a brand new door on a 1970’s sloping, non standard, off center, dirt floored storage room?  Well, don’t. It’s not nearly as much fun as it sounds.

After two full hours of putting it in… and out… and in again…. I realized the husband is not highly proficient at cutting angles.

 

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But did I say anything? No. It will be covered in fascia anyway, and he probably heard my eyes rolling from across the yard…. so I’m good.

By Sunday evening we’d replaced walls and studs and trim and a door. We’d put up starter strip, J channel, corner posts, F channel, soffit, fascia, siding and sill trim.

 

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We were tired and sore.

 

 

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Oh, stuff it Morgan.

It may not look perfect, but it looks better. And right now?

Better is just fine with me.

Men, decorating… and a bucket.

 

Summer in Maine is short, so you have to rush to get all your outdoor projects done before the weather turns.

 

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So aside from the barn walls and garage makeover we’re doing ourselves, we had to break down and hire a professional to replace part of our chimney and stop the roof from leaking. Our house has a central fireplace and was built in the Brady Bunch era so the insert is metal instead of masonry. Don’t ask.

When it came off the roof it looked like this:

 

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It had been rusted for a while and unbeknownst to me, the husband had snuck up there and tried to pretty one side of it up.

 

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Yes, I married the Martha Stewart design school reject who thought a can of fire engine red spray paint was a decorating improvement.

 

 

I truly have no idea how long this monstrosity was up there looking like this…. or why none of the neighbors weren’t driving by and snickering. I know I would have.

 

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So we hired a chimney guy who came highly recommended  (read $$$)  and he got to work. After 3 days he told us he’d done all he could for now and was waiting on a metal fabricator to make the top piece, which would take about 2 weeks.

So now?

 

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We have a tarp and a bucket.

 

 

Improvement?

Not so much.

I have piles.

 

 

 

 

No, not that kind of piles…. the remodel the garage type piles.

There are piles to go to the dump…

 

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Piles that the neighbor across the street might want.

 

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There are big piles.

 

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And little piles.

 

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And piles that the husband might want to use for something, someday… which really means never.

 

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That’s entirely too many piles!

If we were better acquainted,  you’d know how crazy this makes me.

 

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And if all those piles aren’t enough to make me  stab my husband with a fork  twitch, there’s this one:

 

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Which interferes with my late afternoon summer reading.

And that… can not be tolerated.

 

 

 

 

 

Because garages need facelifts too.

 

Work continues on the garage, and the paper walls are still a nightmare.

 

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Seriously, wth?

 

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The fact that it all has to be replaced with plywood means more time and money and work…

 

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And my instruction  to the husband to stop napping on the job was not well received.

Go figure.

 

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We turned the corner and I had to say goodbye to my beautiful daisies.

 

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Yeah, that was depressing.

But not as bad as the husband refusing to heed my advice to clean out the wood shed before he removed the panels…

 

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And having cement blocks fall on his toes.

I tried not to snicker.

Really, I did.

 

 

So, the woodshed was left pretty much like this.

 

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And progress was made elsewhere.

 

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The siding doesn’t exactly match the house, but in this light, it’s pretty close.

 

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And we’re getting there.

One wall at a time.

I’ll huff and I’ll puff…..

 

And I’ll blow your paper garage down.

(Alternate title – You have got to be sh*tting me.)

 After years of  relentless nagging  gentle persuasion, I finally talked the husband into replacing the old rotted siding on our garage this weekend.

He started removing it out front, which was fine.

(No plumber’s butt shots. You’re welcome.)

 

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Then he turned the corner…

 

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Started ripping, and found….

 

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Paper.  Lots and lots of paper….. but no walls.

Paper walls!

Fuckety, fuck, fuck.

There was literally nothing behind the old siding but paper.

 

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Who does that?

“Gee honey, wood is expensive. Grab me that spiral notebook and the trashy romance novel you were reading last week.”

Good grief, even the 2 little pigs used sticks and straw.

Needless to say, the husband was not amused at all the extra work this was going to entail.

 

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I tried to make light of it and told him we could have an awesome transom window, but  he had a hammer in his hand and a strange look in his eye  that didn’t go over well either.

To be continued….

(Face it, this project is going to take a month of Sundays and if I have to live through it? So do you. That’s the beauty of blogging! But if it makes you feel any better, I had a large splinter in my butt from rubbing against a piece of rough cut wood yesterday so …. I still get the worst of it.)

Summertime is project time….

 

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And the garage/woodshed/storage building is getting a long over due vinyl siding face lift.

 

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First,  the  husband had to be bribed, cursed, nagged  rotted wood had to be replaced.

 

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And there was plenty of that.

Of course, we weren’t expecting the surprise the  lousy land beaver, Devil’s spawn  woodchuck left for us in the storage space out back.

 

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Dirt.

And tunnels.

 

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The little  bastard, rodent of Satan  darling had been busy.

 

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So we spent an hour and a half filling holes and smoothing earth.

I have a feeling this job is going to be the   end of my marriage, reason I drink   gift that keeps on giving.