I give full
credit to anyone who takes on a home renovation, big or small. There are few things more shattering to the
nerves than having the house become a shambles while the renovation is going
on. If the renovation involves removing
storage space I do not judge the individuals who may resort to valium or
oxycondon by way of balancing their nerves.
There are those, who shall not be named, who consider removing storage
space a good time to downsize one’s collection of stuff which, in me at least,
only produces a snarl of no mean order.
Every time I go through another phase of
renovations I wonder why I was compelled to do it. Oh yes, that’s right, the wind was whistling
through the logs. It always boils down
to the fact that I live in a log cabin and there are definite maintenance costs
involved in an aging cabin. Some advice
to cabin lovers, unless you have a lot of humidity in your area, don’t build one
on the prairies.
The other day we were considering putting
in a new floor in the family room and after nearly 30 years of believing that
my ugly linoleum had been glued directly on cement we have discovered that
there may not even be a cement foundation!
Once again I am faced with another lie from the woman who sold the house
to me. I am terrified to find out what
exactly is beneath the room but looking down the heat ducts has definitely frightened
me. Meanwhile, as John, Erik and I are
on our knees, head down and rumps up my mother sits in the corner and laughs
her head off. We look ridiculous as we
anxiously compare notes on what we are “seeing” down there. John says
insulation, Erik says insulation, I say dirt and light. John says not a problem, Erik says a problem,
I say a nightmare.
Why did I want to put down a floor again?
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