Busy day today. I was going to sneak off to Secret Location #1 to get some rocks on Tuesday, but it was awful rainy. My 1998 Mazda B2500 SX pickup truck is not a monster truck. It’s not an off-road machine. It is barely two-wheel drive. It is loyal, though. It has been born the loads of a couple of years of renovation work. It has hauled cords of firewood. This summer, it has already hauled five loads of rock, at least 2½ tons by my estimate.
They were not easy loads. Secret Location #1 is roughly half a mile into the woods, down a path not quite wide enough for a Mazda pickup truck. The toughest part is a slippery little hill with rocks and roots. I'm amazed that I haven’t knocked a hole in the gas tank or lost a muffler in the first four trips.
Today, I had to drop my Cora off at school in Litchfield. I hate to drop hints, but Secret Location #1 is vaguely on my way home from Litchfield, so I swung in for a load this morning. In Tuesday's rain I knew my little truck would not have made it up there. This morning, I pretended the ground wasn’t wet and how far did that get me? About three-quarters of the way up the hill. Actually, it got me that far numerous times. I decided to back up a bit more to get a better running start, but in the backing up, I managed to slide slightly off the trail. Trying to get back only got me even further off.
Eventually, my little Mazda was trapped against some maple saplings in the rear with no traction to move forward. I wandered for a while, collecting some heavy rocks for additional weight. Then I headed back to the nearest house (perhaps owned by someone I know) and procured a saw with which to free my poor truck (sorry to the someone I may know for the couple of saplings). It worked like a charm.
In mere minutes, my little white truck was again on the path and pointed uphill. This time, we had the benefit of a couple hundred pounds of weight in the back for additional traction and we deftly climbed that hill and continued toward the stone.
The whole episode took longer than anticipated, but it did not keep me from tackling a new project that jumped right to the top of the project list. Technically, I haven’t even added it to the list. To free up some valuable counter space on our less-than-valuable wooden counters, we decided to move the microwave to our wall of shelves. The only trouble with the wall of shelves is it has no electricity anywhere near it.
Now, I’m not an electrician. I haven’t even played one on TV, but I’ve worked closely with a couple of friendly electricians in the course of building one house and renovating another. I can do a few things without setting myself, or a structure on fire. Time to head to Home Depot for a circuit breaker, 50 feet of Romex wire, an outlet, outlet box, cover plate and wire staples. Is this the most important job on the list? No, but it seemed like it could be accomplished in an afternoon, if all went well. Besides, I’ll do anything to keep from doing my real work.
Lucky for me, the opposite side of the wall of shelves is a closet. And if that weren’t enough, the wall had already been opened up in the past for the installation of a radon monitoring system and the sheetrock was merely screwed back into place. It didn’t take long to locate where my outlet needed to be, drill a couple holes in the stud and the floor to the basement and feed some wire through.
Wiring the outlet was easy enough. After that it was time to jam my hands into the circuit breaker box. That’s not dangerous or anything, right? I have my trusty dog-eared Home Depot Home Improvement 1-2-3 book to walk me through the electrical surgery. A hot wire here, a ground there, and the circuit that was previously doing nothing now powers our shelved microwave. Traffic flow in the kitchen with the Cool Moon-colored ceiling has now improved and I get to bank a few more marital points into my account. Woo Hoo!
Okay, maybe that wasn’t that quick, but I hope you enjoyed my day. Maybe I’ll do some real work tomorrow. Or there’s always that list…
dave
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
A Decent Rest Area on the First Big Road Headed in the General Direction of the Promised Land
Boy, it feels like the actual Promised Land to me. This morning, as I sit wearily at my computer, I’m not sure which feels better, the clean look of the completed ceiling or the fact that I don’t have to raise my arms to paint it any longer?
I’m beat. At 4:40 this morning, while again laying on my back atop the refrigerator, I took my final brush strokes on the 360-ish square foot ceiling. I spent 20 more minutes pulling down the last of the plastic and cleaning up so Kris and Hadley would see a nice, normal kitchen when they got up 60 minutes later. I’m hungry and dying for a cup of tea, but my laptop pinned me down in a comfy chair before satisfying either of those needs. Now they appear impossible to achieve.
My back is sore from the flare-ups of what I have dubbed my painter’s muscle. It is in the area of the right shoulder blade. It would begin to announce itself after a couple of hours of painting. It felt like the flames that sizzle out of a grill after you mash down a juicy hamburger with a spatula, which, incidentally, you should never do if you like quality grilled hamburgers. I would get the flame sensation followed by the feeling that the muscle was tearing off of whatever bones nature first set it upon. I can understand it when I’m raising my right arm up to paint, but it would happen when reaching down into the paint can as well. And, as I’m largely ambidextrous, I would expect its symmetrical compatriot to feel the burn as well, but no. When I would deftly switch to my left hand, it would be the same right-side muscle that would hurt. Strange.
All of it came to an end just before the dreary sunrise this morning. That said, I still have to install some lights, clean the floor a bit and probably add a second coat to some select areas. Overall, it looks good, but not everywhere. Or am I straying too close to obsessive again? Kris said it probably didn’t need a second coat, but that was after thinking it may need one. I think she may be telling a Cool Moon off-white lie after seeing how long and exhausting that the process was. A white lie out of pity. She’s very nice.
Now I don’t want to give you the impression that it took forever to do this project. I had planned on five long days of work. After last week's Monday-through-Friday effort, it wasn’t complete, but I took the whole weekend off. Finishing before I went to bed means I was only one day over the estimate. And yesterday was long, but I didn’t get started until after lunch and I did take time off to make dinner and hang out with Kris, watching hilarious episodes of Top Gear and some Discovery Health. Besides, I take lots of breaks. Others might call those breaks losses of focus.
Hey, for all of you who follow my ramblings just for my painting tips (which is absolutely none of you), you’ll be glad to hear that I found a new little edging brush that worked great.
Now, I have to tell you, I am pretty good at cutting in the straight edges where walls meet trim and ceilings, etc. I’ve had a lot of practice. I love my 2½-inch angled edge brush. It can become an extension of my arm, which is great except when I have had way too much coffee. On those nights, I don’t make straight lines. I despise the blue painter’s tape. I now am now not a fan of the green frog tape either. I don’t find they are worth my time and effort. I can get quality results more quickly with a steady hand, some focus, the right breathing and a rag for the stray brush marks. Too often, I’ve pulled that tape off only to find it hasn’t held back paint like it said it would.
The other day, Kris pushed me into buying the Wooster Shortcut, a little 2-inch angled brush with a flexible rubber handle that is only a few inches long. That would be its “unique Shergrip handle,” which is apparently so unique, it cannot be spelled correctly. It does sit comfortably in my hand the same way I would hold my full-handled edge brush. The lack of that handle swinging around opposite of the business end came in handy in tight spots while painting grooves in the beadboard where it meets the walls and window trims. Shortcut gets big points for being light on its feet.
The trade-off is when it hits the long, straight lines, like a normal wall and ceiling intersection. Without a normal handle, it cashes in stability for that maneuverability. The Shortcut just can’t hold a straight line. That said, it has earned its way into my arsenal. In the coming years, we are planning to paint most of the rooms in the house to freshen them up and make the color palette our own (read Kris’, as I don’t really have a color palette, I just put it on the walls).
For those of you wondering, the rest of the ceiling was painted with a 2-inch brush, the same width as each of the boards. It was also small enough to get into the grooves. I began priming with a 3-inch brush, but it was too big both on the wood and in between. That was slow and frustrating.
So, what’s next? I mentioned there are a few more things to wrap up before I cross kitchen ceiling off the master project list. Later today, I think I’ll grab some rocks from one of my three secret locations. I’ll discuss the sourcing of rock soon. It is the time of month when I need to begin doing my actual work. In fact, I’m pretty sure that as I was ambling into bed and the sun was rising on the day, it was setting on Project Week: September. Yes, fans, the second installment of projecty-goodness has come and gone. Fear not, October will be here before you know it.
Today is going to be filled with ibuprofen, an exhaustion-fueled lack of focus and a return to work, reading my corporate news articles on this very laptop. And how do you think that will go?
That’s what I was thinking, too. Check out the priming photos in the previous post and be well.
dave
I’m beat. At 4:40 this morning, while again laying on my back atop the refrigerator, I took my final brush strokes on the 360-ish square foot ceiling. I spent 20 more minutes pulling down the last of the plastic and cleaning up so Kris and Hadley would see a nice, normal kitchen when they got up 60 minutes later. I’m hungry and dying for a cup of tea, but my laptop pinned me down in a comfy chair before satisfying either of those needs. Now they appear impossible to achieve.
My back is sore from the flare-ups of what I have dubbed my painter’s muscle. It is in the area of the right shoulder blade. It would begin to announce itself after a couple of hours of painting. It felt like the flames that sizzle out of a grill after you mash down a juicy hamburger with a spatula, which, incidentally, you should never do if you like quality grilled hamburgers. I would get the flame sensation followed by the feeling that the muscle was tearing off of whatever bones nature first set it upon. I can understand it when I’m raising my right arm up to paint, but it would happen when reaching down into the paint can as well. And, as I’m largely ambidextrous, I would expect its symmetrical compatriot to feel the burn as well, but no. When I would deftly switch to my left hand, it would be the same right-side muscle that would hurt. Strange.
All of it came to an end just before the dreary sunrise this morning. That said, I still have to install some lights, clean the floor a bit and probably add a second coat to some select areas. Overall, it looks good, but not everywhere. Or am I straying too close to obsessive again? Kris said it probably didn’t need a second coat, but that was after thinking it may need one. I think she may be telling a Cool Moon off-white lie after seeing how long and exhausting that the process was. A white lie out of pity. She’s very nice.
Now I don’t want to give you the impression that it took forever to do this project. I had planned on five long days of work. After last week's Monday-through-Friday effort, it wasn’t complete, but I took the whole weekend off. Finishing before I went to bed means I was only one day over the estimate. And yesterday was long, but I didn’t get started until after lunch and I did take time off to make dinner and hang out with Kris, watching hilarious episodes of Top Gear and some Discovery Health. Besides, I take lots of breaks. Others might call those breaks losses of focus.
 |
| The open wooden shelving no longer gets lost in the wooden ceiling. This is from the kitchen looking into the dining area. We have gone from camp to cottage, an improvement. |
Hey, for all of you who follow my ramblings just for my painting tips (which is absolutely none of you), you’ll be glad to hear that I found a new little edging brush that worked great.
Now, I have to tell you, I am pretty good at cutting in the straight edges where walls meet trim and ceilings, etc. I’ve had a lot of practice. I love my 2½-inch angled edge brush. It can become an extension of my arm, which is great except when I have had way too much coffee. On those nights, I don’t make straight lines. I despise the blue painter’s tape. I now am now not a fan of the green frog tape either. I don’t find they are worth my time and effort. I can get quality results more quickly with a steady hand, some focus, the right breathing and a rag for the stray brush marks. Too often, I’ve pulled that tape off only to find it hasn’t held back paint like it said it would.
The other day, Kris pushed me into buying the Wooster Shortcut, a little 2-inch angled brush with a flexible rubber handle that is only a few inches long. That would be its “unique Shergrip handle,” which is apparently so unique, it cannot be spelled correctly. It does sit comfortably in my hand the same way I would hold my full-handled edge brush. The lack of that handle swinging around opposite of the business end came in handy in tight spots while painting grooves in the beadboard where it meets the walls and window trims. Shortcut gets big points for being light on its feet.
The trade-off is when it hits the long, straight lines, like a normal wall and ceiling intersection. Without a normal handle, it cashes in stability for that maneuverability. The Shortcut just can’t hold a straight line. That said, it has earned its way into my arsenal. In the coming years, we are planning to paint most of the rooms in the house to freshen them up and make the color palette our own (read Kris’, as I don’t really have a color palette, I just put it on the walls).
For those of you wondering, the rest of the ceiling was painted with a 2-inch brush, the same width as each of the boards. It was also small enough to get into the grooves. I began priming with a 3-inch brush, but it was too big both on the wood and in between. That was slow and frustrating.
 |
| My crew. The Shortcut is in the middle. It bumped the 3-inch edger below it from the final coat. The 2-inch above handled paint duties while the black handle below killed itself on priming. In the can are the failed 3-inch straight and my favorite 2 1/2-inch edger, both helped with priming. |
So, what’s next? I mentioned there are a few more things to wrap up before I cross kitchen ceiling off the master project list. Later today, I think I’ll grab some rocks from one of my three secret locations. I’ll discuss the sourcing of rock soon. It is the time of month when I need to begin doing my actual work. In fact, I’m pretty sure that as I was ambling into bed and the sun was rising on the day, it was setting on Project Week: September. Yes, fans, the second installment of projecty-goodness has come and gone. Fear not, October will be here before you know it.
Between now and then, I think there will be a little more action than last month. I am going to work on molds for the counters tomorrow morning. And don’t forget the upcoming Dry Stone Wall clinic!
One light fixture returns to duty. You can't tell from the photo, but those grooves in between the beadboard are at least 10 inches deep and really hard to get a brush into. Really.
Today is going to be filled with ibuprofen, an exhaustion-fueled lack of focus and a return to work, reading my corporate news articles on this very laptop. And how do you think that will go?
That’s what I was thinking, too. Check out the priming photos in the previous post and be well.
dave
Photos From the Painting Process
Here are a few additional photos of the primer stage. I believe it ended up as the answer for "Things That Took Forever" for $400.
 |
| The knots in our beadboard ceiling after the first coat of BIN primer. |
 |
| In the new game Twister: Extreme Edition, this is the "tongue to yellow tape" spin. Here is the connection for all the track lighting in the ceiling. |
 |
| I had to invent a new technique with my edging brush to get primer into the grooves where they meet the wall. The strange angling, later made easier by the Shortcut brush, resulted in this cool pattern. Hence, I have patented the "Flying V" technique and will now sit back and collect the royalties. |
 | ||
| Looking out over a sea of primed knots. |
 |
| The 3-inch straight brush just didn't get along with the BIN primer, which tended to stiffen very quickly. Since the brush was held vertically most of the time, the BIN would get smooshed into the middle of the brush and then ooze out the bottom and start to solidify. While I didn't want to waste time wiping the brush every few seconds, this was about as far as I could push it before it all fell off. |
Monday, September 27, 2010
Deadlines
Aah, me and deadlines. I can’t seem to fool myself when it comes to deadlines. Last time you visited, I was going on about how I couldn’t fail now. I had a real deadline. My friends Chris and Dan were coming to visit on Friday night, and we we going to provide a wonderfully painted kitchen ceiling for them to socialize and eat breakfast under.
It is now Sunday night. My Kris and I are gearing up for the season premier of “The Amazing Race.” Dan and Chris have long since returned to Vermont. The painting muscles in my back have had two days to recover, though my fingers are still sore. The Giants lost. The Patriots won. The Red Sox…well, what does it matter? They blew their season months ago. And the ceiling in question? Well…it’s half painted.
I have some really good excuses though. Seriously, don’t leave the blog yet. Kris brought home this nice little flu from work, which laid her up for a few days. She was kind enough to share the coughing and sneezing symptoms with me. We’re both getting better now. Life gets in the way as well, driving kids here and there and attending cross-country meets (nice race this week, Hadley!). The real killer is probably my occasional tendency toward perfection, especially when it comes to painting.
Each phase of this project took longer than planned: the sanding, the wiping down the ceiling to get the dust off, the two coats of BIN primer on the knots, the coat of primer on the whole ceiling (especially in those 138 grooves). The one break I did get is that the Behr Premium Plus Ultra paint really does cover in one coat, if you load up the brush with enough paint. The kitchen is done, except that awful space above the refrigerator. I thought I was going to die from inhaling primer fumes while I lay atop the fridge painting that nook. I figured my girls would come home to find me dead on the fridge, angled 2½ inch edge brush in hand. That leaves only the nook-and-cranny-free dining room space, which I’ll knock off today, after dropping Cora off at school and an overdue and much-needed couple miles of running.
The new Clear Moon-colored (think off-white) ceiling looks pretty fantastic. There was too much wood in our kitchen. The ceiling looks higher and no longer matches the floor. The next step in the long-term goal of reducing the visual levels of wood is to replace the aging (and breaking) wood-block counters with concrete. We’re getting closer on that front as well. I have secured a 4’ x 8’ sheet of melamine upon which to build the molds. While Tuesday brings the need for me to return to doing actual work, I do plan to begin assembling those molds in my spare time. I am not announcing any deadlines, though.
Yes, I said, er, typed, molds, the plural. In one of our recurring moments of serendipity and parallel thinking, Kris and I each thought of another test for our nascent concrete skills. To the left of our stove is a 10-inch wide counter. It is small. It is lonely. Disconnected. The other, bigger counters make fun of it. You know the story. Well, the little bitty counter that is deeper than it is wide and can only hold the pepper grinder and balsamic vinegar just got selected to be a test counter in the kitchen. It will likely be next summer before we have enough time, skill and the right temperatures in our primitive facilities to undertake a major project like an entire kitchen. This second little test will be crafted in the same batch as the garage counter. What a swell idea.
Oh, and I have a report of breaking news. The crack news team here at “Learning to Play With Concrete and Stone” has dug up word of the Freeport Historical Society’s 2nd Annual Dry Stone Wall Building Workshop. Oh yeah! October 9th, from 9 to 4. Check out this link for more info. I’ve already sent off my fifty-five dollars. I can’t wait. It will be run by Chris Tanguay, of Yarmouth, owner of Maine Dry Stone. I ran into his website a month ago and am excited to meet him and see his work firsthand. As we get closer, the workshop will give us at the blog a chance to explore that three tons of rock in my back yard and what the hell I intend to do with it. Maybe the crack news team will score an exclusive interview with him about his work. Maybe he'll even take a member of the crack news team on as an apprentice or something (insert dreamy sigh here).
For now, wish me luck pushing through the last half-gallon of Clear Moon. Thick and even. Slap it on and spread it out. After that, it will be time to once again test my basic electrical skills by replacing the tired old black track lighting with some new white track lighting. If you don’t see another post from me, I’m not disrespecting my tiny audience. I’ve just electrocuted myself. Or my cold got a lot worse.
dave
It is now Sunday night. My Kris and I are gearing up for the season premier of “The Amazing Race.” Dan and Chris have long since returned to Vermont. The painting muscles in my back have had two days to recover, though my fingers are still sore. The Giants lost. The Patriots won. The Red Sox…well, what does it matter? They blew their season months ago. And the ceiling in question? Well…it’s half painted.
I have some really good excuses though. Seriously, don’t leave the blog yet. Kris brought home this nice little flu from work, which laid her up for a few days. She was kind enough to share the coughing and sneezing symptoms with me. We’re both getting better now. Life gets in the way as well, driving kids here and there and attending cross-country meets (nice race this week, Hadley!). The real killer is probably my occasional tendency toward perfection, especially when it comes to painting.
Each phase of this project took longer than planned: the sanding, the wiping down the ceiling to get the dust off, the two coats of BIN primer on the knots, the coat of primer on the whole ceiling (especially in those 138 grooves). The one break I did get is that the Behr Premium Plus Ultra paint really does cover in one coat, if you load up the brush with enough paint. The kitchen is done, except that awful space above the refrigerator. I thought I was going to die from inhaling primer fumes while I lay atop the fridge painting that nook. I figured my girls would come home to find me dead on the fridge, angled 2½ inch edge brush in hand. That leaves only the nook-and-cranny-free dining room space, which I’ll knock off today, after dropping Cora off at school and an overdue and much-needed couple miles of running.
The new Clear Moon-colored (think off-white) ceiling looks pretty fantastic. There was too much wood in our kitchen. The ceiling looks higher and no longer matches the floor. The next step in the long-term goal of reducing the visual levels of wood is to replace the aging (and breaking) wood-block counters with concrete. We’re getting closer on that front as well. I have secured a 4’ x 8’ sheet of melamine upon which to build the molds. While Tuesday brings the need for me to return to doing actual work, I do plan to begin assembling those molds in my spare time. I am not announcing any deadlines, though.
Yes, I said, er, typed, molds, the plural. In one of our recurring moments of serendipity and parallel thinking, Kris and I each thought of another test for our nascent concrete skills. To the left of our stove is a 10-inch wide counter. It is small. It is lonely. Disconnected. The other, bigger counters make fun of it. You know the story. Well, the little bitty counter that is deeper than it is wide and can only hold the pepper grinder and balsamic vinegar just got selected to be a test counter in the kitchen. It will likely be next summer before we have enough time, skill and the right temperatures in our primitive facilities to undertake a major project like an entire kitchen. This second little test will be crafted in the same batch as the garage counter. What a swell idea.
Oh, and I have a report of breaking news. The crack news team here at “Learning to Play With Concrete and Stone” has dug up word of the Freeport Historical Society’s 2nd Annual Dry Stone Wall Building Workshop. Oh yeah! October 9th, from 9 to 4. Check out this link for more info. I’ve already sent off my fifty-five dollars. I can’t wait. It will be run by Chris Tanguay, of Yarmouth, owner of Maine Dry Stone. I ran into his website a month ago and am excited to meet him and see his work firsthand. As we get closer, the workshop will give us at the blog a chance to explore that three tons of rock in my back yard and what the hell I intend to do with it. Maybe the crack news team will score an exclusive interview with him about his work. Maybe he'll even take a member of the crack news team on as an apprentice or something (insert dreamy sigh here).
For now, wish me luck pushing through the last half-gallon of Clear Moon. Thick and even. Slap it on and spread it out. After that, it will be time to once again test my basic electrical skills by replacing the tired old black track lighting with some new white track lighting. If you don’t see another post from me, I’m not disrespecting my tiny audience. I’ve just electrocuted myself. Or my cold got a lot worse.
dave
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
The Day After
It’s early. Six-thirty and I’m sipping my first cup of tea. Our house tea is Tazo’s Awake with a splash of skim milk. The routine is a bit off, with the kitchen completely sealed up in plastic. We are in the living room. The woodstove is our pantry. The dining room table, exiled to under the painting near the back door, holds the microwave and toaster. We’re eating dinners out or pre-prepared and I’m alone at lunch, but the morning tea and breakfast are affected by this Project Week.
I survived yesterday’s session with the sander. By the afternoon, my fingers took over the title of most sore from my arms. Repeated fistfuls of ibuprofen kept me functioning into the night and got me a decent night’s sleep. By the time I grabbed a much-needed shower, the entire ceiling was sanded down with no less than 27 round pads of 120-grit sandpaper.
After that, I put our new Ridgid shop-vac through the motions for 90 minutes cleaning the floor, windows, walls, shelves and the tops of cabinets. The sanding took a lot more time than anticipated, but I believe I can stay on schedule, and that is a good thing, because I have acquired something that I need: a hard deadline.
I had planned to wrap up this project on Friday, as it is the end of the work and school week, so the house will get busy again on the weekend. But if it took longer, who would care? We would survive, right? This is the same exact game I sometimes play with my monthly work deadlines. I’ll tell myself that I really would like to get it done early, so I’ll plan on starting work on a certain day and set myself up accordingly. And then I proceed to ignore the schedule, knowing full well that it is a soft deadline. It isn’t real.
Well, Friday just became the real deadline. Our friends Chris and Dan are coming in from Vermont for a place to crash while attending a wedding over the weekend. It will likely be late Friday night when they arrive, but that gives me a reason to get moving and not coyly creep into the weekend.
So, it’s Wednesday. I think I can get all of the coats of BIN primer done today. I am going to paint a coat on all of the knots in the wood first. After that will be a second coat on the knots. Finally, the whole ceiling will get a coat of BIN. The can says it can be painted over after only 45 minutes, but experience says it should be a little closer to two hours. Hell, it might take me two hours just to hit all of the knots.
In theory, that gives me a chance for a light sanding Thursday morning and two coats of an as-yet-undetermined paint on Thursday and Friday. That’s the theory.
Time for another cup of tea before I go wipe down the ceiling with a damp cloth to get the rest of the dust out. I’m sticking to my prediction that the hardest part of this job is now past. Besides, without all that noise, I can now pop in an audio book. Let’s see, there's always John Keegan's The First World War, a personal favorite. I’ve got the Lord of the Rings sitting on my desk or I recently bought Stephen King’s Stationary Bike from half.com. Ooh, yeah. Stationary Bike. That will fit well after having just watched the Vuelta Espana (Tour of Spain) bike race. It is read by actor Ron McClarty, best known to me for playing a cop on the 80s show Spenser For Hire. And coincidentally, my friend Joel has just found a website with episodes of Spenser. Or maybe that’s what I need.
Off I go.
dave
I survived yesterday’s session with the sander. By the afternoon, my fingers took over the title of most sore from my arms. Repeated fistfuls of ibuprofen kept me functioning into the night and got me a decent night’s sleep. By the time I grabbed a much-needed shower, the entire ceiling was sanded down with no less than 27 round pads of 120-grit sandpaper.
After that, I put our new Ridgid shop-vac through the motions for 90 minutes cleaning the floor, windows, walls, shelves and the tops of cabinets. The sanding took a lot more time than anticipated, but I believe I can stay on schedule, and that is a good thing, because I have acquired something that I need: a hard deadline.
I had planned to wrap up this project on Friday, as it is the end of the work and school week, so the house will get busy again on the weekend. But if it took longer, who would care? We would survive, right? This is the same exact game I sometimes play with my monthly work deadlines. I’ll tell myself that I really would like to get it done early, so I’ll plan on starting work on a certain day and set myself up accordingly. And then I proceed to ignore the schedule, knowing full well that it is a soft deadline. It isn’t real.
Well, Friday just became the real deadline. Our friends Chris and Dan are coming in from Vermont for a place to crash while attending a wedding over the weekend. It will likely be late Friday night when they arrive, but that gives me a reason to get moving and not coyly creep into the weekend.
So, it’s Wednesday. I think I can get all of the coats of BIN primer done today. I am going to paint a coat on all of the knots in the wood first. After that will be a second coat on the knots. Finally, the whole ceiling will get a coat of BIN. The can says it can be painted over after only 45 minutes, but experience says it should be a little closer to two hours. Hell, it might take me two hours just to hit all of the knots.
In theory, that gives me a chance for a light sanding Thursday morning and two coats of an as-yet-undetermined paint on Thursday and Friday. That’s the theory.
Time for another cup of tea before I go wipe down the ceiling with a damp cloth to get the rest of the dust out. I’m sticking to my prediction that the hardest part of this job is now past. Besides, without all that noise, I can now pop in an audio book. Let’s see, there's always John Keegan's The First World War, a personal favorite. I’ve got the Lord of the Rings sitting on my desk or I recently bought Stephen King’s Stationary Bike from half.com. Ooh, yeah. Stationary Bike. That will fit well after having just watched the Vuelta Espana (Tour of Spain) bike race. It is read by actor Ron McClarty, best known to me for playing a cop on the 80s show Spenser For Hire. And coincidentally, my friend Joel has just found a website with episodes of Spenser. Or maybe that’s what I need.
Off I go.
dave
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
My Arms Are Killing Me
I’m not a strong man. Never have been. Save a few moments here and there, I’ve never really cared. I can do a handful of push-ups when needed. I can lift most of the rocks I’ve been slinging around for the rock wall and those I can’t I figure out some way to cheat a little.
And because of my genetics and artful dodging of the gym, my arms are killing me right now. I’ve convinced myself that the worst part of the “Paint the Unfinished Beadboard Wood Ceiling a Nice Off-White” project will be the sanding of the ceiling. I am now further convinced that the sanding portion will never end.
I’ve talked myself into a break that will involve whining about it to you. Unfortunately, that involves typing at this keyboard, which uses my arms. The arms are looking at their options, including unionizing for better work conditions, outsourcing the job to India and outright revolt. So, this break is for their benefit, not mine. I’m not the wimp, they are. Can I disavow my own limbs?
The sanding of the beadboard ceiling isn’t going quickly. The quality is okay, but boy, pushing that little palm sander up against the ceiling is taking a toll on my wings. But that is only half the story.
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| The well-sealed kitchen. |
This is a tough job because, for maximum leverage using my afore-mentioned sub-par arms, I need to be pretty close to the ceiling and the palm sander, a Porter-Cable Quicksand. The palm sander is mildly loud and I’m close to it so the hearing protection is nice, but it is not a deal-breaker. Since the palm sander is (when I lean into it enough) churning out wood dust, the airway is quite important. I don’t want to be inhaling it straight from the source. It only took a few minutes of using the safety glasses to realize the importance of full protection of the eyes. The dust was streaming right in and forming gooey brown globs.
I quickly switched to my awesome Dr. Horrible safety goggles. The impact-resistant glass was a bit of overkill, but they seal to the face and don’t allow dust in. Apparently, they don’t allow moisture out, either. After a few turns on the sander, the round specs were fogging up. Since I had to finish up for the day, I attempted to push through without eye protection and suffered dearly for it. After a half hour, I was pulling enough crap out of my eyes I could have used it fill holes in the beadboard. And no, contacts don’t help. In fact, they seem to make it worse somehow.
So, today is a new day. I brought in new options, but that meant compromises. My starting lineup looked like this: trusty headphone ear protection and Kris’ sweet dive goggles for the sealed-up eye protection that is vital, but I had to bag on the airway. The nose is covered by the mask, but not the mouth. I can’t get the respirator over the mask. Oh well, right? No. It didn’t take long before I got tired of rinsing down the dust coating in my throat with coffee.
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| Today's cast of characters. |
To add insult to injury, it is the end of trusty headphone-style ear protection as well, as the plastic piece that fits over the head snaps in half. Sad. Trusty headphone ear protection and I have been through a lot together. Many cords of firewood, wanton destruction with a saws-all during renovation, planing hundreds of feet of 150-year old floorboards for a new floor, you name it. As the noise is mild, I gave up on one-third of my protection plan altogether.
I’m currently down to safety glasses and bandana. I can feel the slight layer of dust in both the eyes and the mouth, and I suppose in my ears now, as well. It isn’t going well. Maybe I’ll try to apply the spitting technique to the Dr. Horrible goggles and return to the respirator next?
I’m about half done the roughly 360 square foot ceiling, but all the tricky corners are down. Only the open area in the dining room remains. Please don’t let the sanding last into tomorrow. I really want to stay on schedule and try to finish up painting on Friday.Of course, that will require having at least one functioning arm after today, and that currently looks to be in doubt at the moment. I suppose, since I’m at the end of this entry, it means I have to go back to work. I could take questions from the audience. That would buy me some time. Anybody? Please?
dave
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Episode IV – A New Hope
It is a period of monthly work.
Lengthy news articles, hidden
on the Internet, have captured
the attention of our blogger
as he battles lethargy and
boring formica counters.
During the month, the evil
Empire has unleashed its
Ultimate weapon, the INTER-
NET, a rag-tag collection of
distracting, addictive information
and entertainment with enough
power to destroy the productivity
of an entire generation.
Distracted by the Empire’s
sinister websites, our blogger
tries to wend his way through
the web of digital craziness,
custodian of vague plans
to construct a concrete
counter that could save his
garage and restore
freedom to the galaxy…
Lengthy news articles, hidden
on the Internet, have captured
the attention of our blogger
as he battles lethargy and
boring formica counters.
During the month, the evil
Empire has unleashed its
Ultimate weapon, the INTER-
NET, a rag-tag collection of
distracting, addictive information
and entertainment with enough
power to destroy the productivity
of an entire generation.
Distracted by the Empire’s
sinister websites, our blogger
tries to wend his way through
the web of digital craziness,
custodian of vague plans
to construct a concrete
counter that could save his
garage and restore
freedom to the galaxy…
All right. So it has been a little while. Complain if you must, but I’m pretty sure none of you were hanging on the edge of your Internet, waiting for my next keystrokes. This is the monthly rhythm of my work. I read and analyze media coverage of large companies, but I do so as a contractor, so I am at home more often than not. Just because I didn’t get out of my pee-jays on a given day doesn’t mean I didn’t go to work.
This past week was my week of monthly deadlines. The second of my two deadlines is usually the fifteenth of any month, with minor adjustments for weekends. After that, I always feel I have earned some time off. Sure, I could get a start on the next month of press coverage, but that strategy has just never appealed to me.
Since I have devised this wonderful list of projects, and since Project Week was so successful last month, I have decided to make Project Week a permanent part of the calendar. For one week, there will be no work. There will be chores done and there will be projects tackled.
The second installment, Project Week: September, is shaping up rather nicely. The week of the 20th through the 24th will feature a mostly empty house. Free of traffic, it will be much easier to empty the kitchen and dining room and tackle the daunting “Paint the Unfinished Beadboard Wood Ceiling a Nice Off-White” project. That will involve emptying all the nice stuff, covering everything with plastic and that painter’s tape, sanding the wood a bit, priming over the knots, priming the 25’ x 15’ ceiling and then painting it, making sure to get into all the grooves. How many can there be? (editor’s note – there are 138 grooves)
But you aren’t here on the Internet to read about paint drying, now are you? Time to throw you some red meat, oh fans of the concrete counters! As you will recall from two paragraphs ago, my work cycle comes to a close on the 15th, which gives me four days of Project Week bonus time that we will be using to get that counter moving!
So, for all of you who have been patiently waiting for me to stop being so damn verbose, the first major step is (drumroll)…to make a mold. Concrete is much like Jello. It will take the shape of whatever container it is poured into. Therefore, we have to build a mold, a negative version of the shape of the counter.
The first step in making that mold is to make a template. I have laid out strips of luan to define the shape of the counter and then glued them together. Since the garage counter is a fairly simple rectangle, it didn’t take long, unless you started counting when I published the last blog entry.
The resulting flimsy rectangle mirrors the angle of the wall and the has 1 ½ inch overhangs on the front and on the right side, where it butts up to a work-table.I have to tell you dear reader, Kris and I are pretty excited to have this template complete. It is the first real step that proves we are on our way toward making a concrete counter. Everything thing we did today involved buying things and buying things doesn’t mean anything. Anyone can buy stuff, but it takes true skill to glue pieces of wood into a rectangle. We are on our way!
So the next step will be to construct a mold from our template. I still have to track down a 4’ x 8’ sheet of melamine to serve as the base of the mold. Melamine is a textured finish that is used on many bookshelves and some countertops. I have decided that since the counter will serve in a workbench function, it shouldn’t be one of those glossy, sexy magazine-quality counters. The melamine provides a bit of texture for sawdust to get caught in and for drill bits to not just roll right off the bench.
I’ll get to the next step soon. Tomorrow, Monday, we start sanding that ceiling. Later in the week, as coats of primer and paint are drying, I’m going to try and work on that mold. I do want to fill you in on the stone half of this blog. I’ve been collecting rocks from two secret locations. My little Mazda pickup truck has been working hard. My rough estimation is that I have three tons of stone laid out in the backyard. Three tons of stone isn’t nearly as impressive as I imagined. It is as heavy as I imagined though. Talk to you soon.
dave
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