My House in the Trees
Updated: Aug 19
I am loving our old, but new to us, backsplit home. You walk in through the front doors on ground level and when you get to the kitchen, family room, and lounge area you are on the second floor. See? This is my treehouse view from the family room.
We have a back deck on the second floor that has a spiral staircase down to a covered patio. It's so Fab that I have to fight off the hummingbirds, Cardinals, owls, wrens, morning doves, blue Jays and martins just to get a seat.
It wasn't always this way. Our almost shining star was a little rough when we found her. She had great everything, she just needed to be polished. As to that, it has taken us nine months to rebirth her and now that we are down to the nitty gritty, this last bit is the most painful. Not for her. For me and my very opinionated, dare I say, bossy contractor? If he weren't right most of the time I'd really have a problem with that. There is something to be said about knowing code, industry standard measurements, and making things structurally sound.
*Looks right at you* I want all those things. I really do, but my designs come first. That means that he has to work harder to make me happy because he can't come home and complain about me. I truly draw the line at hearing complaints about me from anyone especially my husband.
That said, here’s me today talking over coffee with my cranky contractor.
Me: Bright smile and delightful tone in perfect placement before I brace myself and ask, “How’s the plumbing going?”
“We had some dry rot.” Yeah, why he even mentions this I do not know. “Some sag.”
*Stares at you with one brow raised* Don’t we all? 😊
“And an electrical issue I’m going to have to fix before I reroute the whole thing.”
A simple, “I’m managing, or I’ll let you know when it’s all fixed” would have sufficed, you know? Instead — insert me dragging my hands down the sides of my face here — he keeps going on and on. Seriously, it was getting hard to ignore him, but, those who know me will know that I did just that and fixed my only remodeling problem in the process.
While he was listing off everything that went wrong with the work the day before, I will pause here to point out. I am writing one room over so I heard every swear, growl, yell, bang, and crash. Seriously. I was laughing so hard at one point there were tears in my eyes. The guy has a contractor-speak like none other. I have never heard such ear scorching swear words strung together so passionately as I did yesterday.
Now, in his defense, this is the last and worst job to be done in our new abode, but still. To blame some of the problematic issues on an amorous mother who was born out of wedlock and has bowel issues that are shockingly calling out her lady parts in a stunningly base manner?
Priceless. But I digress.
While he was commiserating about the trials of his hell the day before, I was redesigning the mirrors I’d already handed in to him as a final design order. Meaning that I promised on his contractor bible not to make any more alterations to the design, measurements, spelling, concept — basically I wasn’t supposed to even breathe near the area until it was done.
*Insert a rather large grimace here* Oh, and maybe upgrade my balls to two sizes bigger because I did the unthinkable. I waited for him to finish his complaining and then I said cheerily, “Great.”
This is him. Not a blink. Not a scowl. Just a look that goes right through me. “Great? You think that’s great?”
“Yes. With all of that out of the way, you’ll be able to make the changes I need for the new design of the mirrors.”
*Leans in to speak to you candidly here*
The new design is a must. We have a huge ceilings in the bathroom and the mirrors are going to be the anchor.
Clearly he didn't think so. “Oh no you don't. No new design. I already mapped out the studs for the electric boxes and the frames.”
Yeah, this wasn’t my problem. If I had known how tall the ceilings were going to be once the room was redesigned I wouldn’t have needed to make the new adjustments, you know? So, I just smiled and patiently explained.
“That’s okay. You can move the map. The frames need to be four inches not two. That’s going to change the sconce positions as well.”
And, this is when that chorus about the amorous mother arrived again. He has such a potty mouth when a wrench is tossed up to land on his precise measurements. *Bats eyelashes at you here* But this is not my problem either. It’s his.
I sit back and continue to beam at him. “This is going to be great. Trust me.”
He does a double take and then he says, “I trusted you when you handed in your final design with measurements carved in stone on those mirrors.”
“You obviously made a mistake. I’m willing to forgive you over it, providing you fix the design.”
Yeah, I didn’t like his smile, people. I can tell you that. The only thing worse than his potty mouth is he cold-to-the-bone silence.
Haha! Can’t wait to hear what he has to say when he does decide to speak again. For right now? The silence is eerie. No swearing, no growling. Thank God for the horrific and over embellished bashing, though. It’s a clear indicator that my design change is being incorporated. I hope the walls survive. Oh, and wait until I tell him about the cool wood carving design I’ve drawn out to add to the mirrors. It shouldn’t be too difficult for him to figure out and make. Imma waiting until tomorrow morning to share that little nugget with him. He’ll probably throw it at me. 😊
Ah, good times.
*Psst. I might need another upgrade on those balls. Man, if I keep this up, I might be walking on my female nuts. Meh, it will give me a good excuse to go shoe shopping, right?
As always, thanks for stopping by!