Why is This Even a Project?

Picture if you will, a yard.

It could be any yard.

For todays sake, let's imagine a back yard. From the house, it is about fifteen feet deep, and maybe eighty feet long. There is a low chain link fence around it, and some will say that it is a glorified dog run.

See all those confusing fence posts?

There is a shed in one corner, some chairs, and a barbecue by the house; so you could call it,  "Frankie's domain" if need be.

Now, to add to our imagined yard, let's put in a family who wanted to make this glorified dog run a more private sanctuary from their neighbors. We can assume that the chain link fence isn't the most attractive feature, and maybe, there was a time, when the neighbors yard wasn't very attractive.

So what would you do? Sink a hand full of fence posts and add a lumbar-yard-special privacy fence along the inside of the back of the chain link fence!

Of course, that is completely logical. Because, we already said, this could be any yard, right?

Well it isn't just any yard, this mess is right out back of Dueselhouse, and fast-forward a foreclosure and who knows how long later, there still stands that hand full of fence posts along the inside of the low chain link fence. Underscoring the fact that this feature isn't very attractive, the neighbors have upgraded their property and put up their own privacy fence!

It's ugly.

What's a new-homeowner to do? Build a fence to hide the neighbors privacy fence, the low chain link fence, and the useless posts? Terrible idea. Suck it up and ignore it? Not for more than a month or two. Sell the house? That begs you to consider my commute, not going to happen! Finally, it's time to face the facts, those posts need to come out!

So I dug one out.

Not too bad, I dug next to it to gain leverage, and the post was only sunk about two feet in. The cement footing was only six inches deep! Cake walk.

I filled in the holes with dirt and dead grass I had scraped off the driveway (another story to be written) and preserved what grass I could - thank you rain, for helping keep the sod alive!

I have to admit it was almost fun!

Here's the original process I developed:

This is a dumb fence post

STEP 1: Carefully dig sod from in front of post 

STEP 2: Dig more, set soil aside (preferably on a tarp, which I didn't)

STEP 3: Shake the everlivingshebam out of the post to get it loose. 

STEP 4: Pull the post from the ground, feel like a bear with the strength of ten bears! Dance around in celebration, realize no one is watching ("Katie, come outside and appreciate my masculinity!" to which you hear mumbles about busy microwaving dinner or Glamor magazine, or something)  Rub your spine and realize you're getting old. Then move on to STEP 5

STEP 5: Put fill soil into the now gaping hole in your once beautifully immaculate yard. Remind yourself that this will be a temporary step back to making it again beautiful. 

STEP 6: Gently rake soil into the hole, replace sod you mercilessly ripped from the ground earlier, tamp it down, step back, appreciate your work. Great job!

There's more than one post to a fence though. So Get back to step 1, you lazy so-and-so...

If you're feeling a little under appreciated, look for treasure in the digging:

Who says yardwork doesn't pay? That 1922 Quarter is worth $64k... or is it only 4 years old?

Now, I'm going to ask if you looked at the title, Why is This Even a Project? Because the 6 Steps sound easy. First, it digs a pretty big hole in the ground. Second, as I found out on post #3, sometimes they get stuck on something underground.

I had to cut some of the chain link fence that was trapped in the concrete footing (can we even call that a footing?) Yet it still wouldn't come out. Rather than pull every tendon in my spine out, I decided to think of what else I could do. I needed to pull harder than I could. My Jeep wouldn't fit through the gate, and I don't have a winch.

"Hmm... maybe my highlift will get the job done! I just drilled a couple holes beside one another, these would serve as a lifting point for the jack, and a couple of clicks and the post came right out.

This was almost too easy!

For the rest of the posts: I dug a smaller hole, just enough to get the foot of the jack under the concrete. From there, I jacked up to the top of the post, and filled back in the now smaller holes. It was super simple, and the yard looks GREAT!

Here's the new steps:

NEW STEP 1: Drill holes for jack, dig small hole at base of post.

NEW STEP 2: Get the jack in there.

 

NEW STEP 3: Lift the post out with a few pulls.

Bonus points if you get help from a friend.

NEW STEP 4: Fill in the gaping hole as in [old] Steps 5 and 6, and stack the posts wherever you transition your trash.

There is one post left, but it is buried in ivy and a tree stump. Also there is a clothes line post that is REALLY deep in the yard. That's a project for another day. Soon though.

And a special thanks to my assistant for the third half of the project!

Edging on Insanity, or Fighting with Abandon

Photo lifted from: http://romancebandits.com/grass/
Pretty silly piece, I may have to read more of it.

I don't know if you've ever cared for a lawn before, but choosing what beverage to consume while casually walking along behind the mower, that pulls itself along, is only half the battle. And if you're going to do battle, it's better to go with the intent to win.

Where I grew up, there was a house that was completely abandoned. Just up the road from my parents house, and when I learned to drive I passed it daily going anywhere. The place was overgrown with weeds, the roof was sagging, there was no glass in any of the remaining window frames. It was a mess.

Rumor has it, the last family had cleared out in the mid eighties. Then kids stared partying in it, and there was a fire. By the time we moved out there, I was in my mid teens and the house was a complete mess. [I'll see if I can find a picture back in my files, but we all know I won't]

Point being, this house was half collapsed off to the side of the road. There was a low spot where a driveway once was, but it was covered by layers of leaves and dirt. The ground had quickly grown grass and  weeds, left unchecked by years of not mowing.

Dueselhouse was left empty for at least a year before we moved in. When I imagine my home prior to May 29th 2012, that is the image I have in my head, and it embarrasses me to think of it that way. So one of my main motivators is to make my house not look like that mess - including the whole fire part.

As I was saying, Dueselhouse was forclosed upon by Freddie Mac, and left lonely for some time prior to its new moniker. Whoever cared for the lawn was obviously employed in just cutting the grass once every couple months so that the locals didn't complain. (I've heard from a couple neighbors they all pitched in a time or two) Now the only photo we have seen of the house besides the MLS listing that led us to the palace is the one from a rental ad around 2005.

It was a grand place. A tree grew off to the left, there was an ornate, craftsman style, to the porch railing; and the trees that have recently fell (on/near the house) were tall and almost still alive looking.

The classic image also shows a large walk leading to the front steps, but today the front walk wasn't looking quite so grand. We had a good twenty inches of walking space, but the old photo led me to believe that there was more to be seen. Additionally, the curb surrounding two sides of the property was all but invisible to the passer by. And the sidewalk! Oh the sidewalk... well, you get the idea.

There is a curb under there, somewhere.

So while Katie was looking at house plants the other night, I picked out a string trimmer and what just floored me - a jug of premixed fuel for a two stroke motor. Unreal how lazy people are, and I bought a quart of fuel for about five dollars.

Never again. But I tried it.

Armed with a Ryobi multi-trimmer, and rake, I went to work. I trimmed and cut down along the side of the house, the porch, the mail box, and then I was at the front walk.

I looked at that front walk, and revved my weed-wacker.

The sidewalk looked back at me, and just sat there. Maybe it was looking at the neighbors house defiantly, I don't know. The jerk.

Well, I started trimming.

Son of a gun was almost a foot wider by the time I was finished! Now, when Mrs. Duesel and I walked out together, we could actually walk beside one another! Who knew? Well I then realized the sidewalk was probably just as over grown. And the curb out front...

SURPRISE! Our home is surrounded by a fine line of concrete just waiting to be revealed! Oh, and the gutter that runs from the curb to the pavement of the street, that isn't supposed to have grass weeds growing in it!

I laid down the broom and rake along the lines where the grass once reached for the comparison of trimming it all back.

To keep to the point (I am watching Blazing Saddles right now), one of the easiest things to keep a house looking lived in is to keep the perimeters trimmed. Curb, driveway, sidewalk, edge of the house. Put a deep clean line on it, and you've got a good looking piece of property; at least, that's what I think.

Everybody has something that makes them think that their house isn't the worst looking place on the block, what is that line that makes you think the house is habitable versus abandoned?

Next step, landscaping!

(Ok, flower beds and shrubs will be a spring project, but you get the idea)

As a little post script, I should tell you what I did with all of the slag from edging the property.
Most of it went into paper-lawn cutting bags, from Home Depot. But in the street was some built up soil, what could someone use that for?

Perhaps if there was a post hole in their yard... what could cause such a situation?

We moved our mailbox to the porch, like many houses in the neighborhood. Removing the post that supported the original mailbox was extremely hard. Fortunately I am extremely strong, so the post pulled right out. Next I filled the hold in the ground with afore mentioned soil that had build up in the street! It's got to be good, there are all sorts of weeds growing in it!

Post hole in ground

Dirt from the street

Problem solved.

(note: I did pick out much of the weeds before stuffing it in the hole)

AND ANOTHER THING:

Edging is a dirty job!

Sponging, borrowing, storing... Furnishing on the cheap!

Circa 2005

We hear it all the time, "You guys are really making Dueselhouse look great, but how can a lowly teacher and decor coordinator afford all this?"

Truth is, we couldn't, if we weren't astronomically wealthy.

We, literally, have debts well into the hundreds of dollars on our credit card. We cut extreme corners wherever possible - this is why so many of you haven't gotten thank you notes for wedding gifts yet. Next month, I promise!

Rooms like the Man bathroom cost nearly forty four dollars to remodel. Our bedroom closet almost broke the bank costing over a hundred dollars, not to mention the intrinsic costs of two full days of work! The revamping of the kitchen (paint and the Ikea countertop)... well let's just say it was the equivalent of a dinner and several drinks at Smith and Wollensky's, for one person!

Point being, we have been mortgaging Frankie's future college fund in this pile of sticks and plaster. It's time to start cutting back and stop spending what we don't have in the first place.

It's election season, so we did what any natural D.C. citizen would do, grass roots furniture campaign! Those with the least are likely to give the most, right? You already know how we milked mother and father Duesel for the back door, Katie's brother for a table saw (do I still have to give that back?), my sister threw in a shopvac, and paint labor from Katie's sister and husband. The time had come to look for more suckers friends.

We began at the bottom of the barrel, former roommates, college friends, and generally people who wouldn't likely want whatever they offered returned any time [soon]. After an exhaustive few hours on the phone, Katie hit on our first donor,  John Birkhofer! Always the cautious optomist, staunch republican, and friend of over seven hundred on facebook; Katie and I were confident, that John was the man to abuse!

On the same Friday as the man bathroom remodel, John pulled up to the Dueselhouse donation center with a fancy futon with underneath storage drawers. Awesome!

"It's been in storage for almost four years," he revealed, "So you're welcome to it until I get my own apartment again." What John doesn't know, is that by the time he gets his own apartment, there will likely be a girl involved. We all know that women don't like their man to bring along his single guy furniture. Proven fact.

I expected a flashback to college, until we began assembling the futon. Solid oak construction, steel gliders, magazine storage in the arm rests.

No, we not on campus anymore, Toto.

As we finished tightening down all the screws, Katie paid the man. Cold beverages for everyone! Not a bad exchange for a futon; when a thought crossed John's mind. "Do you guys want a coffee table for up here too?" he motioned to the TV just sitting on the floor opposite the new couch. With that, he increased his donation to silver-status.

Already in the truck, we only had to walk downstairs and shuttle the generous "map table" up to the attic room. In minutes, the newly air conditioned space had turned into a room. We are greatly appreciative to John for all his generosity. While much of my phrasing is in jest, the appreciation is very real.

Next up at the loading dock, the eldest Indrisano offspring, Lynn, is going for platinum-donor status with a corner cabinet, and who knows what else, for Dueselhouse. But when you walk upstairs, it becomes clear that there is a real room for guests to settle into; or just escaping my random escapades - not that Katie ever needs a break from me.

Not a bad looking room either... it just needs a quick coat of paint. We could knock that out in a single evening, right?

Motivation via Impulse

Sometimes it is the little projects that mean the most.

Generally, Katie takes the lead on style and design, and I'm ok with doing the grunt work. The upstairs of Dueselhouse has a comically small half bathroom, it's more like a third bathroom, and we have some ideas to turn the upstairs into a master suite and another bedroom with another three piece bathroom; so the current bathroom will just have to function as it sits, for the time being.

Problem is, knotty pine is not very attractive, or clean looking. I'm really the only user of the upstairs bathroom, but even I like things to appear fresh and not like an afterthought. This exact point crossed my mind the other night at Home Depot. It was Thursday, we were expecting guests for the weekend, and someone would be sleeping in the attic room, which meant that with 5 people, there was no avoiding somene using the bathroorm in the attic.

Dueselhouse head decorator, Katie,
 sees the attic bathroom for the first time.

At Home Depot, Katie was looking at house plants, which I don't really care about - so long as it doesn't kill the dog. I wandered off. I grabbed a lamp to replace the broken one on the attic stairs, a weed whacker, a new mailbox. Little items I always am usually forgetting to buy.

As I meander, I pass through the paint section. There's always a shopping cart full of "oops" paints for super cheap, "Maybe there's a nice color that would freshen up my bathroom?"I think.

There wasn't. But I'll have Katie double check whenever I find her.

She liked an electric pink, but I didn't like the concept of having seizures on the toilet. "How much could a quart of self priming paint cost?"I finally ask, "Just to hide the knotty pine. Go pick out a color, something light, because it's a small space. Grey, maybe."

I find the fancy self-priming Baer, it's ten or twelve dollars for a quart. Sold. This thing will be painted tonight, and I will quick paint the trim first thing in the morning. It will look awesome! I find Katie holding a number of paint samples; light yellows, blues, greens and not a single grey.

"Those are good greys, for my bathroom, but how about a touch darker?" I took a light grey from the wall of rainbow. We "settled" on pebble grey. It's a quite stunning grey, if I do say so myself.

The guys in the orange aprons had the computer put some squirts of who knows what in the can of base paint, they will shake the thing, and we'll be off! By now it was twenty of nine, that little bathroom will be pebble grey before my head hits the pillow at ten thirty. Impulse purchase was literally in motion,  I thought looking at the shuddering can of paint.

Everything was taken off the walls (a wire-paper roll, and two plastic hooks) I grabbed a brush, tossed down a painting cloth, and with I Love This Bar radio playing from Pandora, I start slinging paint. A lot of paint.

Funny, as I finish the back wall, it's not looking very attractive. I start on the left wall. I'm making a bit of a mess, but who cares? When I look down at my paint bucket, it was almost empty. Two walls soaked up almost a third of the quart? Unreal.

Katie crowded the bathroom, she poked her head in to see my progress, "Why did you buy flat paint?" SON OF A -- Deep breaths. This will be ok... but how?

For those who aren't in the know, paint comes in glossy, semi-gloss, and flat. Glossy is what magazine paper looks like, and flat is what military vehicles are painted with. Glossy reflects some white light, where flat only reflects only the color and does not shine. When a space encounters moisture, it's best to use a semi-gloss at the minimum, as the flat paint readily absorbs moisture and is prone to mould... or something gross like that.

As I drifted off to sleep, around midnight, I decided that "we" would have to buy another quart of paint, this time in semi-gloss. The flat paint would be a great primer, so I would only need to do one coat of the semigloss. This would be fine, and by lunch I would be trimming the lawn with my new string trimmer!

Keep in mind we have a dozen people coming Saturday, and it's now Friday. Roosters crowing, Frankie pawing for breakfast, coffee perking and there I am with a roller and a tray of pebble grey. 

Magical.

Ask Katie left for work, I left to go back to Home Depot. I loaded up with another quart - this time in semi-gloss - some of those narrow rollers, towel and toilet paper hangers, and a roll of tape. I also went on a wild goose chase for an air conditioner in the attic, so it wasn't until almost eleven that I got home and back to work. (Special thanks for Best Buy for opening at TEN! Seriously, who opens at ten? Might as well open at noon, or tomorrow maybe.) As I'm getting back into things, using the last of the flat paint to touch up some misses on the left wall, my mom calls.

Nothing super important, they're on the road to visit mom's sisters. I found a moment to speak up, and had her ask dad (Dad was  doing the driving  to Michigan via Pennsylvania) about priming before painting the trim. Point being, yes, I should do it, especially on this warmed over attic pine. Mom got a hold of the conversation again and asked what I was going to paint the ceiling.

"Grey, of course!"I replied.

<<there was argument here that I didn't bother to memorize, but here's how it ended>>

"Oh no, Jeffrey, even slanting ceiling gets painted white!" Boy, I sure was embarrassed. It turns out it's one of those things that gives a room dimension, they didn't raise me to have same colored ceilings, and smaller places look bigger with white, and blah blah blah; how could I even consider ... you get the point.

On top of the flay grey ceiling, I splattered two coats of Killz Primer, which hid the knotty pine appropriately. At the same time I trimmed the ... well, trim, in a few layers of primer. It was about one or two before I cracked open my fresh can of semi-gloss! (Hooray!) I was a short afternoon away from 30 people staying at my house, and there was still lawn care, a blue room that was a mess, and the toilet needs to be cleaned out before I can let people sit on it! (paint splatter) I spread the proper-gloss grey paint onto the walls carefully - well, sort of carefully. I got some on the trim, but that was going to get a slathering of brilliant white, so I just let it go.

I let the primer and other coats of paint set and installed some new lights in the hallway and the bathroom. Tape was laid down around the trim, paint was cautiously shaken to ensure proper emulsification of the... ah whatever. I cracked the brilliant white open and slapped it down with near reckless abandon.

Everything went on smoothly, it started looking good. I was surprised at how great everything looked as I hung up a new [cheap] towel holder, fresh white toilet seat, and toilet paper roller. It was already four in the afternoon as I completed washing out my brushes and rollers and Katie came home from work. I couldn't wait to show off what turned into a whole days work!

As the masses started showing up the next afternoon, I found that Katie also carried my enthusiasm as she toured the house with her friends, "And this is Jeff's Bathroom!" she would say with just enough sarcasm to hide her pride in how well everything turned out, in my bathroom.

Sometimes it is the little projects that mean the most.