Renovating is like riding a horse.
It's bigger than you and it can kill you.
First, we had to empty our basement Man, we have a lot of stuff. After five years of begging Husband to get rid of his refrigerator-size box of random wood pieces, he finally conceded that he did not, in fact need any of it. YES! I really want him to reach the same conclusion about the giant and COMPLETELY AND TOTALLY USELESS table saw. If we were 'handy' people, it would make sense. But since hanging a picture is at the very edge of my 'handy' skill set, it's a spectacular waste of space. Not that I have a strong opinion or anything.
We had to make a pact that we would not fight during this process. My dad went completely off the rails of appropriate and helpful advice when he solemnly declared, "People who renovate get divorced,". Thanks, Dad. Noted. So it freaked me out and Husband and I made a 'pact'. Tequila might have been involved.
But it was all kind of surreal. I knew there was a gaping hole downstairs and it looked like an earthquake had struck, but I mostly held back in utter denial that there was any chaos at all.
The first casualty of the reno, was the washer and dryer. I suddenly realized that the pile of laundry upstairs wasn't going to get done any time soon. That's was the exact moment when this shit got real.
Grateful as I am to have indoor plumbing, drainage is an issue. So, for the moment, we have a moat around our house, which with the amount of rain here, is filling up. There's a security measure I hadn't considered. Maybe we'll get cheaper home insurance if we have a freaking moat around our place. All I need is a drawbridge.
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