Renovating the 100 year old farm house my mom grew up in – making it a place for us to grow old in.

The remodeling began Friday 🙂 Joe and I both had the day off from work and by noon we were up to our necks in plaster and lath. We took a trip into town and grabbed an 8 pound sledge hammer for him and new blades for my reciprocating saw for me. Two things were decided as we went. One: There is no point in taking down all the plaster and lath on the ceilings in the kitchen and living room when we can just as easily put our ply bead over it. Two: Moving the 100 year old wall on the first floor (and consequently the wall above it on the second floor) to gain five inches of width in the stairwell is highly over rated. The stairwell will not be getting wider – the cost of time and money is just not worth five inches of width to me – so it will remain about 30 inches wide… I might have to get the tub up there through a second floor window… hmmm.

guttinghouse2

The plan had been for us to begin on the 2nd floor on Saturday but once we pulled the cabinets out of the kitchen, bathroom and entry we wanted to keep at it. The bathroom exploded beneath Joe’s sledge hammer, leaving us trying to figure out how to move that cast iron tub so we can keep it. The main floor bathroom is getting a new location that is not in the kitchen (Check The Action Plan page to see the floor plans). It felt incredible to see just how much bigger and brighter the kitchen is going to be now!! We’re really getting somewhere already!

photogallery

We picked a place in the yard for the bonfire and tossed anything out the kitchen window that was safe to burn – the rest of the debris was thrown out the bathroom window to consequently be hauled again later… ugh. I’m going to be calling and seeing how much a dumpster might cost and also seeing if I can borrow my brother’s trailer. Still waiting for our snow to melt… there’s a lot. I hauled that red bench out of the garage and we sat down together for awhile – holding hands and watching all of our work burn. I remembered that the last picture taken of my grandma when she was still in her home was with her sitting right here – in that same red bench that she and my grandpa built.

 

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