A Smudge of Ink

About 25% of the bathroom wall space will be painted instead of tiled, so it gets drywall instead of backer board. Drywall is much easier to cut and install--it's nothing more than a hard sandwich of talcum powder.

The trickiest piece of drywall had two cuts: a little one for the light fixture above the sink and one for the air duct. I measured the openings and then drew them onto the board along with a big FRED. Like every single thing I've done to this point, my signature will be not be visible at the project's end. If this is a metaphor for life I'm not inclined to pursue it here...

...Or maybe I will. Yes, my signature will first be covered with some spray-on texture stuff we found at Home Depot--if it works. Otherwise I'll use a sponge or something to emulate the plaster texture (called orange peel texture) that's on most of the walls in the house. Then it will get a couple coats of paint.

Like me, my signature will be buried and forgotten before too long, a smudge of ink covered in sand. Too gloomy? (Can't a guy be gloomy now and then?)

Anyway, I hate doing drywall, and I always have. It is too forgiving, too flimsy and artificial, though it may last for centuries. (I don't care.)

Very soon, the project becomes visible: tile, texture, paint. Maybe I should sign the wall after I paint?

Doing Right and Feeling Good

We've been deliberating on how to install our new sink. Seeing an opportunity to make Cheryl happy (which is my goal in life), I asked her to go antique shopping to find a table that would work as a vanity for the sink. It would have to be a small table, but a tall one. Off she went.

The other option is for me to build a table into the wall. The sink is opposite the toilet, and the room is only 5 feet wide. Not much wiggle room. Of course, the toilet is not actually in the bathroom now so I'm using my memory and some yoga squatting to see where my knees would go when I sit down. Under the sink, it seems. How would a table even fit?

And if I'm going to build a table top, everything needs to be perfect. I had to own up to the fact that I did a terrible job on the sink wall: the board was not aligned well, it was squeezed into place, the holes for the plumbing appeared to be roughed out with a chain saw, and I didn't put up any moisture barrier (even though there's plenty of water in a sink).

So I redid it all, and now I feel much better.

After a few hours Cheryl returned empty-handed from antique shopping. "You'll have to make the table yourself. There isn't a thing out there." I think she felt better for looking, though.

Goal-Driven Wallboard

My right thumb has an ugly bruise today, sore and ugly and inexplicable because it is one of those bruises that you get from a misplaced hammer blow, only I never ever swing the hammer with my left hand. I suspect that Cheryl is hitting me with a hammer in my sleep, and this is my best proof so far.

Yesterday was one of those goal-driven days. I was determined to get the wall board for the shower in place, and I did it (well, almost).

On one wall I had to cut out holes for the bathtub spout, the shower handle and the shower head at the top, and these cuts needed to be pretty precise. I drew out the cut lines in blue pencil. Then I cut them using a new diamond blade on my saber saw. All in all, I probably spend more time previewing and thinking through these tasks in my mind, particular in the early morning when I first wake up, than I actually spend doing the work.

Everything lined up pretty well. Cheryl had to help me with the ceiling piece, which is 5 x 3 feet, meaning that I will need to hang 60 tiles upside down--the thought of it will begin to haunt my dreams soon.

The next step is to tape and seal all the edges with thinset so that we have a solid concrete box for the tile.

Berkeley was pleased. She likes to see results, likes to check items off the check sheet, likes to see milestone achieved and schedules met, never mind about quality. She was not concerned about my thumb. A new era of management has begun.

Black Curtains

After several days of fussing and tweaking and aligning the wall studs so that the tiled walls will be more or less square, I finally said enough and I stapled up the vapor barrier, which is solid black and disconcerting in its lack of geometry--I had grown accustomed to and fond of the grid of wall studs, despite their imprecise alignment. Now I can't tinker with them any more. Sigh.

A log cabin might be nice for just this reason; just to sit and contemplate the rows of logs and mortar on the interior walls, stretching around and around. Why did this ever go out of fashion? (People are weird.)

Next I'll put up the backer board, though not today because I want a nap instead. These sad black curtains have sapped my strength.

Little Green Worms

Nature indulges itself in excess now and then, with human beings as the worst offenders. And for all my good intentions and my respect for the natural order, I realize that my peaceful and benevolent feelings are a slim veneer, easily cracked to unleash my inner wrath, when it comes to something like these little green worms that are descending from our oak tree and covering everything in sight with a silky, worm-infested web that, once cleaned away only comes back in an hour or so, so bad that we cannot even park our cars in the driveway or walk around in peace.

The worms are commonly called Oak Leaf Rollers and are considered to be a natural, helpful part of the environment, providing food for birds, etc. I even found this quote on a web page: "They are our green little friends. We should treat them with love and respect. They get up on their little hind legs and look around. They're not hurting anyone."

Are you kidding me? We can't even walk to our car without getting these on our clothes and in our hair (or Cheryl's hair). I would permanently banish them from the planet and send them to wiggle for eternity in worm hell (which is populated with big fat birds), so yet again it is a good thing that someone else is in charge.

Apparently nothing can be done--nothing short of renting a flame-thrower and turning the oak tree and the front yard to ash (which I only briefly considered).

Meanwhile, I've installed some insulation to the exterior-facing wall, put up a layer of roofing paper, and I've put up my first panels of backer board. I still have some framing to do in the shower area, so I'm getting ahead and doing things out of order, but I wanted to get some experience with the board first so I can make any adjustments. The backer board is more flexible than I expected, and it is not too hard to trim using the special tool that I got.

I suppose I need to learn to love the green worms, but this won't happen until they are gone from sight and I can become a "good" person again and forget this unpleasantness ever happened.

Electrical Box

With Berkeley away at school and occupied with other matters today, Willow and I put our differences aside and had a meeting, despite the fact that she could be fired when Berkeley and her other corporate dog overlords discover that she's been collective bargaining with me. Meanwhile I have joined the local Do-It-YourSelf Union, Branch 203. I still haven't actually gone to a meeting since I hate meetings and would rather just work on the project, but I suppose I felt the need to support my fellow workers.

Apparently Willow wants us to get everything back to normal. Sure, she says, our negotiations are messy, but that's how we get things done. She says she never wanted to be a dictator--she just likes managing proects. It was all a corporate decision, etc., etc., she wants me to know. We'll see.

So I'm not sure if I should be working or not, but today I completed my only electrical task: to move the light above the sink to a higher position. (The old location is about 9 inches down.) To do this I had to carve out an opening in one of the 2x4 furring strips. This wall is about 8 in. thick in total, with a criss-cross of lumber inside.

Normally I like to do electric work without turning the power off, just so I get a little shocked, after which I always seem to feel better so I don't mind. Today I turned off the power so I could thread the wires to their new location. I could go shock myself on purpose but that seems a little weird.

Why move the box at all? Because I promised Cheryl I would make a big tile border for a mirror here. More later...