Category: Family & Home

Setbacks.

The light we selected for the bathroom originally arrived scratched, and had to be sent back. The lighting store promptly lost the order, and it took weeks to get a replacement. Finally got that installed, only to discover it was too dim, even with max wattage fluorescent bulbs. I had had reservations about its brightness when we first saw it near the beginning of summer, but was assured that our senses were being thrown by all the other lights in the store. Nope. Should have trusted first instinct. I also hadn’t had a good feeling about the color temperature of fluorescents. Even with warmest available tube type, the light feels cold. So after everything, the “Forecast” went back to the store and we went back to the drawing board, focused on glass and halogen this time.

Yesterday finally cleared time to install the tub/shower fixture set. Halfway through reading the directions, the “should have been obvious” dawned on me – you can’t install a full shower fixture set without ripping existing tile and backer board off the wall — there’s no way to connect supply pipes to the pressure regulator unless you can get your hands inside the wall. I think I had approached this problem like most plumbing — thought that I could just install new handle, spout, and showerhead over some kind of standard valve. But it doesn’t work that way. If you don’t want to rip up the wall, you can buy just a “trim kit” to change the look of an existing set (thanks baald), but of course the range of trim kits available for your existing valve is much more limited. Now grappling with whether to go for it and rip out some shower wall, or live with a lesser choice. At this point, very eager to just have the job over and done with. But it would also suck to spend all summer on a project like this and have such a visible detail stuck in the 80s.

For the past couple of months, Miles’ standard rejoinder to questions about why he just did something has been “Because I’m curious.” Example: “Miles, it seems like you spilled that orange juice on purpose. Why did you do that?” “Because I’m curious.” Yesterday I finally managed to get an alternate response out of him.

“Miles, what would you like to have for dinner?”

“Daddy, I want to have breakfast for dinner!”

“OK, what would you like to have for breakfast?”

“Fish!”

“Have you had fish before? Do you like fish?”

“No, Daddy.”

“Then how do you know you don’t like it?”

“Because I’m curious.”

“But if you’re curious then it means you like to try new things.”

[pause]

“I mean because I’m NOT curious, Daddy.”

Hard to believe this day has come already. Seems like Miles was just born, and now suddenly he’s in preschool. Bittersweet sending him off to spend three days a week in the company of peers, riding tricycles and gluing beans onto sheets of cardboard, but we’re very proud and so is he. He absolutely loved it. Amy looking forward to kick-starting her adult life again. Miles’ words have become sentences, and sentences have become paragraphs. His speech swerves delightfully in and out of surreality. His deep penchant for pushing the limits of his physicality is now firmly established, and he continues to astonish with his feats of derring-do (almost stopped our hearts today when we found him walking on top of monkey bars 6 ft. off the ground, rather than hanging from them). Like any 2-3 year old, he has his moments of abject refusal / self-determination, but they’re relatively infrequent and pass quickly. He’s starting to spell, loving to count, and is already memorizing dinosaur names that Amy and I can’t even remember, not to mention the names of obscure sea creatures (“Daddy, that’s a clown trigger fish, not a parrot fish!”). He recently picked up on me saying “Rip. Mix. Burn.” and walked around the house for two days saying “Rix. Mip. Born.” Testify!

Toilet installed last week and in use, tackled the sink today. Used a grout saw to remove a hex tile to make way for the pedestal’s lag-bolt. A bit of caulk to the base and it went into place neatly. Drilled bracing holes in new wall, test-mounted basin. Perfect level, looking good.

Installed most of plumbing into basin last weekend, thought it would be a simple matter to plop it on top of the pedestal, bolt it to the wall, and walk away. Spent most of the day wrestling with atrocious installation instructions. Sample sentence:

Unscrew the nut from the pop up body and take off the spring clip from the ball rod (please note: retain the white packing ring on the ball rod), and place the nut in the ball rod. Insert the ball rod into the side hole of drain, slide the nut on and tighten securely).

This might not sound unapproachable, except for the fact that there were three different parts that could accurately be called the “pop up body,” and that they used the word “in” wherever they mean “over” or “on.” In other places, the directions were completely muddled by attempting to cover six different fixture models in one set of text. “Let’s see… if I don’t have the white washer then I need to apply plumber’s putty between the black gasket and the porcelain. Wait, they must mean the other white washer. In that case…” And so on. All compounded by the impossibly cramped working quarters behind a pedestal sink – had to use a mirror to check my work, check for leaks, etc. Getting the drain lever assembly installed took 90 minutes alone. Finally got it all watertight and working. Not done yet, but the bathroom is actually usable again for the first time in two months! And looking great.

Miles was a great help, too. Pictured: learning all about vice grips, then turning them on me — “Bite! Bite! Cheetah chomps!”

Next up: Install shower/bath fixtures, locate source for ball-bearing cabinet rails, build sliding drawers, install lighting (assuming it ever arrives).

After midnight, hear strange rumblings coming from the side of the house, outside Miles’ window. From my office window, I see the large acacia bush moving, as if in a strong wind, but there is no wind. A bit freaked, thinking maybe some kids are setting up shop in the bushes, grab a flashlight and head outside. Sneak around the corner, throw a beam, and out pads a young buck, looking brave but a bit frightened. His antlers (substantial) had probably become entangled in the dense bushes while foraging, and now he was looking for a way out — but a human was blocking the only route.

I crouched, snapped off the torch, tried not to project a threatening vibe. His big black eyes were illuminated by a nearby streetlight, tranquil but a little bit scared. From a distance of about eight feet, we stared at each other for the longest time, equal parts curiosity and fear flowing in either direction.

This would not be such a surprising event if we were in a more rural location, but we live on a fairly busy street in a thoroughly suburban neighborhood, the last place one would expect to encounter forest creatures. But this is not the first time I’ve seen deer stray this far down from the hill. On evening walks, sometimes see them venturing into neighborhood gardens, snacking on suburban gardens. “Deer are just rats with good P.R.,” or so they say. Have even seem them on occasion traveling in groups, bounding down the street, hooves clacking against the asphalt, oblivious to stop signs, worse than those packs of kids buzzing around on 2-stroke scooters.

Eventually he made his move. Slowly, cautiously, as he had to come even closer to get past me. I’m sure the bulk of fear in the equation was on his side, but can’t say it didn’t cross my mind that those antlers could do serious damage if he decided for some reason that it might be fun to disembowel a bi-ped. Not that that’s ever happened, just saying it crossed my mind. Briefly.

Suddenly he broke into leaps, and was gone, up the street in seconds, tail bobbing in the darkness, clacking his way toward another garden.

Related: Wonderful interview by Forum’s Michael Krasny with poet and naturist Diane Ackerman. Ackerman talks about her conflicted feelings about deer, why she gives necklaces to squirrels, why she plants weeds, and how it’s against the law in some cities to let your front yard become a meadow.

Making progress. Grouted the chicken wire a couple weekends ago. After taking so much care to protect tile from damage, almost painful to smear adhesive-laden mud all over the job. But a few hours sponging, swabbing, wiping and it came out nicely. Used the tile saw at a local shop (free!) to re-cut a few pieces of coving, then installed that last weekend and grouted it yesterday. The corners are a bitch (can’t believe they don’t make pre-fab corner coving pieces).

Today set out to install toilet and sink. The old toilet (excuse me, “closet”) was bolted to the floor through the sub-floor. New one didn’t have such holes, and is attached only to its own drainage flange. But surprise! Previous workers cut a big hole out of sub-floor around the drain, no place to screw down a new one. Ended up cutting a big donut out of 3/4″ ply with hole- and jig-saws. Screwed that in, which provided a platform for new flange. Worked out nicely, but knocked a big hole in the day.

Finally tracked down a source for chrome sink feed pipe covers (so you don’t see plain galvanized pipe when viewing from the side). Stupidly hard to find these, but they cut nicely and make a world of difference. Now if I could just find a source for ceramic toilet bolt covers; these are apparently officially extinct in favor of plastic. The modern world blows.

Assembled sink fixtures and prepared to install pedestal, when I discovered that the new sink has a 1 1/4″ drain, while we have a 1 1/2″ drain in the wall. Also needed more height for new drain assembly. And I’ll have to remove a hex from the floor to bolt down the pedestal, which meant I needed a grout saw. Fourth trip to hardware store.

The cable guy arrived (90 minutes late, we get a discount!), which meant it was time to drop everything and reprogram the Tivo. First night with cable learned how to change sprockets on a dirt bike to suit muddy conditions, watched the removal of immense face tumor from poor Malaysian boy, and was reminded of just what an ass Sean Hannity is. Sink will have to wait.

Miles suddenly became very curious about what I did at work all day.

“Do you have lots of toys at your work?”

“Well, not really, but I do have a good time. Most of the time.”

“Do you have a park at your work?”

“No, but we have some grass where we can sit and eat lunch.”

“Are there a lot of kids to play with at your work?”

“Ummm, depends what you mean by kids.”

“Daddy, do you have a funny clown at your work with three arms?”

“See son, it’s like this…”

Constructed with assistance, but the idea was Miles’, wanting to put together toys from different toy microcosms (QuickTime). Starting to show lots of mechanical interest. Has a take-apart plastic airplane with big plastic screws, bolts, nuts and a power drill with removable attachment heads. Within a week learned to swap out the attachments, remember which way to flip the switch to screw screws either in or out, and to take apart the whole thing; can almost put it all together again by himself. He’s been a big help with the bathroom remodel too – sticks screwdrivers down the toilet drain hole, munges walls with a putty knife, sweeps up… couldn’t get the job done without him.

Miles starts mixing up dinosaur names to keep himself entertained, playing with words. “Daddy, my favorite dinosaur is Triceradon!” Google Images to the rescue. We quickly pull down images of Triceratops and Pteranodon, collage them together into the beastie pictured. Miles is strangely unimpressed. The ability to Rip, Mix, Burn is neither novel nor amazing to him. It’s just The Way Life Is.

Took off work Friday to finish spackling/sanding (lather, rinse, repeat) the walls to baby-hiney perfection. Finished masking and priming, applied two coats of Rainwashed Mmmmm… creamy marine! (Compare to destructo image. Note, this bathroom is very difficult to photograph — hard to get a decent angle or lighting. Looks much better IRL!)

Dad arrived Saturday with tile saw, trowels, sponges. Intended to lay tile Saturday and grout Sunday, but took all day to measure and cut. Nooks and crannies are killers. Hex tile comes in 12″ x 18″ sheets, tiles bound lightly together with small rubber dots. Big areas easy, but spaces around tub, corners, heating register, etc. tedious. Tile saw too small for our sheet size, lots of jimmying to make things work. Once layed in, marked hexes for removal where accent tiles would go, then moved all to living room floor in exact layout. Removed marked hexes to make way for accent tiles.

Sunday started early arranging and cutting coving. Getting the corner cuts right super tricky (not mitered, just nicked corners off at 45 degrees, still very hard to get right, but think we nailed it). Started smearing mortar by early afternoon. One row at a time, replicating yesterday’s arrangement: smear even, comb, pound in with beater block, lay in accent tiles, last-minute adjustment cuts (no amount of planning accounts for the ragged reality of real life). Idea is to get angle of notched trowel just right so that no mortar oozes up between cracks but you still get 95% coverage on tile backs; took some practice. Dropped in the accents, dug extra mortar out with penny nail, sponged excess out to perfection. Finished up by 6:30, fried, back sore, knees cramped, but the results are gorgeous so far. In a couple of days, will be able to grout the gaps, install coving, and apply sealant. After weeks in stasis, it’s all starting to come together.

Closed my eyes on the couch and head filled with visions of oozing mortar, hex webs falling apart in my hands.