The Gingerbread Diaries

The Saga of the Roof

The Gingerbread Diaries

Alrighty then, let’s tell this tale!

But first I want to point out that, despite everything you’re about to read, I do not regret making the choices we did (i.e., our contractor) because, ultimately, those decisions allowed us to own the Gingerbread Dollhouse. At the time the decision had to be made we were working with limited options, the thinning patience of the sellers, and a narrow window of what the bank would agree to. We made it work because we had to. And we will still make it work.

We clear? Okay. Remember (or be aware, for those new to the Dollhouse stories), we closed April 14, 2014, we had to wait until early May on a revised contractor license (individual vs company name on the license) before the permits could be pulled, and the roof was the first thing done on the house. We moved in the last weekend of June, just prior to the hottest July on record.

So, how on earth did it get to the point where I was sending this email in November?

Nov 24, 2014

To: L***, S*****

Unfortunately this weekend’s rain proved, once again, too much for whatever part of our roof is allowing water into the house. The leak was, thankfully, not severe, but even one drop in my hallway is one drop too many, and there was more than that yesterday afternoon/evening.

To reiterate, as of the completion of the contracted renovations in July (the roof having been installed in May), I have had to call L*** to report leaks on the following occasions:

July 12
August 6
August 30
September 3
October 14 (contacted S***** first)
November 24

6 leaks in 6 months is ridiculous. I think another pair of eyes (S*****) needs to assess this issue so that an actual solution can be found, not a temporary patch. A roof is expected to last decades, not mere months, and I am rapidly losing patience with this situation.

It started 2 weeks after we moved in when a bit of a storm rolled through. I was shocked to find water inside instead of out!

July12Texts

Please forgive the typos…

And, to his credit, he came out on a Sunday afternoon with his son and his ladder and they climbed up there are pronounced the problem to be some caulk that had shrunk as it cured and left some gaps. No problem to fix, they said.

It was on this visit that I asked about the warranty (I have yet to receive anything in writing on either his labor warranty or the shingles).

The next time it rained I kept nervously checking the hallway and downstairs bathroom, the two places prone to let the water in, and nothing happened. Okay, I thought, last time was just a blip, it’s all good.

You didn't think it'd be that simple, right?

You didn’t think it’d be that simple, right?

This was our dance: the every-other-rain tango. There’d be water in the house, I’d text, he’d come out, target something else, it’d hold for one storm, then we’d do it all again. The third time it happened I was losing my patience. We wanted to be able to move forward with house repairs, to replace that nasty used-to-be-outside-now-it’s-inside wall that has seen so very much water damage over the years, but how can you do that if the water is just going to keep coming in.

Scraps gets feisty!

Scraps gets feisty!

I’ve tried transferring the video mentioned in the text but it appears locked on my phone for the time being. Here is a still, though, that shows what we were seeing when we crawled shoulder-up into the “attic” above the back hall. (And when I say we, I absolutely mean Todd as the combination of a ladder and a damp, dark, cramped space is a combination I have no intention of putting myself into. My phone is my periscope.)

The problem child of the Gingerbread Dollhouse.

The problem child of the Gingerbread Dollhouse.

From what we could tell, the flashing (that, for those unawares, exists to channel water that might slip under a shingle or two along a joist and out, or something like that) ends at this supporting wooden pillar. Wherever the water was coming from (because it’s also true that water will find the path of least resistance, so it doesn’t have to be coming from directly above when it has a nice alley to travel down) if was getting into our hallway and bathroom here.

I pretty much gave L one more shot before I contacted S (S being the contractor of record, with L doing the actual work). He met Todd out at the house and did something (I don’t even remember what he claimed to do at this point), and told Todd that if that didn’t work, he had one more thing he could try.

Now, I ask you, how many times would you ask the same person to fix the seemingly same problem without getting results before finding another solution? The “definition of insanity” saw comes to me, you know? But since he claimed he had one more fix (which begs the question why he didn’t do that in the first place), I let him come back when, in short order, the “fix” proved useless.

It so happens that the “final” solution was to add additional flashing (this time to the exterior of the roof, because to do otherwise would require removing a bunch of the single-story roof or some such). It also happened that this was a day I was at home, sick, and trying desperately to rest on the sofa while they banged away on the roof. I didn’t even go out and say anything to them about it because I wanted my damn roof fixed and if adding a headache onto the existing aches and pains was how I was going to get it, so be it!

The "beautiful" job they did of adding in the afterthought flashing--photo by Todd this January while he was up on the roof (because you know I'm not getting out there!)

The “beautiful” job they did of adding in the afterthought flashing–photo by Todd this January while he was up on the roof (because you know I’m not getting out there!)

Too bad it didn’t work.

That’s when I called S****, asked him to take care of it, and he had a talking to with L*** as to what needed to be done. Suddenly it was all the fault of that pillar/post thing, you know, where the flashing stopped that we talked about back in August (it was mid-October, now) creating an uneven surface in the roof. If that’s so, then why in the hell didn’t they a) take care of it when they put the new roof on, or, b) fix it the last 4 times you’d been out?!

At this point I was also exploring whether we had any recourse through the bank (since they had their hands in the renovation–no go there). And getting more and more clear with L*** that I was about ready to get someone else to fix it and that, after spending more than $12K on a roof 6 months prior I was not going to be the one paying for the fix!

I have no idea what (if anything) they did in October. I remember he was trying to tell me, at some point, that it wasn’t the roof that was the problem it was the exterior of the home (he mentioned that in August, too, not that he made any move to do anything about it then, either), a matter of relative pressures, and the water was actually defying gravity and scooting up under the clapboards (up being the key word).

Now, okay, there’s actually precedent for differing pressures in and outside of the building envelope to create those kinds of situations, though the only references I’ve really been able to find were in commercial buildings, not clapboard Victorians, but whatever. My bullshit detector was pretty much pinging in the red with him by this point. I reminded him that one of the many tasks he had during the renovation was to check out and replace any bad boards on the house as part of the exterior work–he had his hands (or, well, his crew’s hands, and I’ve already theorized on that point) on every exterior inch of the house, so an error there was his responsibility to catch before now. I also questioned the premise that, if it wasn’t, in fact, the roof, then why in the hell did his previous roof “fixes” all see to work, even if only temporarily?!

Like I said, BS-meter overload.

That final email in November has them out at the house again, Thanksgiving weekend no less, patching yet another spot (oh, yes, on the roof again) and testing other areas.

The diagnosis this time? That it wasn’t the roof (then what the hell did they fix when the hose-test caused the water to come again while he was standing with his head in the attic?!), it was actually the water falling from the upstairs roof, hitting the downstairs roof, bouncing up several feet, and entering through—dun dun dun—the casing of the upstairs bathroom window! *gasp*

He caulked the window, explained that it would hold a while but not forever, and strongly suggested installing gutters.

I certainly hope he didn’t think I’d ask him to install them!

The front of the house shows no signs of renovation, the back, though, is a patchwork of rooflines and angles. This is the offending edge from whence our troubles, apparently, spring.

The front of the house shows no signs of renovation, the back, though, is a patchwork of rooflines and angles. This is the offending edge from whence our troubles, apparently, spring, and the beginning of Todd’s gutter additions on the left.

Now, it’s been several months since their last visit (November) and several months since Todd started installing the gutters (January) and I don’t want to jinx us, but since then we’ve been drip free. Being just one dude, awesome though he may be, means that pretty much one section of gutter is going up a weekend (if that). The uppermost roof-line will probably require a scissor lift or cherry picker and the aid of a brother or friend or all of the above, but so far, so dripless.

While I’ve been adamant that they would get the roof fixed one way or another, when it comes to the rest of their handiwork I’ve pretty much given up. The sections of floor they replaced were not done well. In the back hallway you can clearly see where the screws holding down the cement board are attached because they raise little tents in the vinyl flooring. There are puckers in said flooring where tubs or refrigerators sit. And there’s a section in the kitchen that is compressed or something (supposedly the stuff they used is like hardie board, but for floors) and I swear one of these days I’m going to put a high heel through the vinyl and get stuck. We’re not sure if it got crushed pre-install, or if it’s where some corners are meeting, unsupported. Either way, we’ll deal with it when we redo those areas ourselves. Because I’m bound and determined not to have that man back in or near my house!

3 Things I Wish I Knew To Ask For, Contractor Edition

The Gingerbread Diaries

To say that buying a house is a learning experience is an understatement. Pair a home purchase with am immediate renovation and you’ve got education out the wazoo! As much as I like to learn things, and as often as not I tend to learn them the hard way, here are three things I wish I knew to ask of our contractor before we got started.

Maybe it will help someone else getting their school of hard knocks degree in contractor negotiations.

1. Where will they pee?

Yes, it sounds funny that this is the first question I wish I’d known to ask, but it’s indicative of all those little considerations that just don’t occur to you until after the fact. This particular one (of asking the contractor to include a Port-o-Let in their estimate) was suggested by an article on Houzz after our renovations had ended and I really wish I’d read it 6 months sooner.

I remember thinking, after discovering the busted pipe a few days after closing (that Todd was able to fix, thankfully) that we needed to make sure it was safe to leave the water on while the workers were here so that they’d have access to the facilities and to water and whatnot. It was a kind thought, and I give myself credit for that, but I regretted it soon.

The first week the work crew was in they used up almost all the paper goods we’d bought right after closing. That amounted to a case of paper towels and a a large package of toilet paper, and left trash everywhere. And if that wasn’t enough, they also helped themselves to a pair of work gloves Todd had left out on our makeshift dining room table, ruining said gloves by using them to remove the old roof, and sopping up who knows what with one of the bath towels I’d brought up, leaving it crumpled and soaking wet (and filthy) and thrown into the closet under the stairs. Had we put off our next trip up by a week, May’s heat and humidity would have rendered that a mess of mold and mildew right behind our downstairs a/c filter.

It was a small but shattering sound heard as my goodwill towards the work crew evaporated.

Lesson learned: hide everything you don’t want them touching. Which we did in a giant storage tote tucked into one of the downstairs closets.

2. Who will actually be on-site?

This doesn’t mean I expect to vet the work crew before agreeing to the bid–that’s a lot to ask even of the most corporate outfits. No, I mean who’s actually going to be on-site and in charge during the day-to-day of the project. It never occurred to me (that’s a theme, here) that the contractor I made all these arrangements with might leave someone else in charge of the work being done on the biggest single purchase of my life. Especially not when this is, ostensibly, a one-man-and-his-crew operation and not some big corporate contractor.

But that’s exactly what happened, at least in certain instances that I can be sure of. Overall, I’m left to wonder how often the man I trusted my home to was really there.

The first inkling we had was when we discovered the house key sitting on the top ledge of our front door. Apparently no one person could be bothered to be in charge of our key, so they just left it “hidden” for whoever showed up first the next day. Another time we found the key in the lock on the back door when we came home (after we’d already moved all our stuff in). To say I was not pleased was an understatement, but at least they were making sure the doors were actually closed and locked (more than once in the early days I came home to find doors yawning open).

But the most damning evidence came at the end of the job, when they started to work on the exterior. They’d removed the loose materials and the first coat of our chosen color (Del Coronado Peach, from Valspar’s National Trust for Historic Preservation color line) was going up! Only problem was, it looked like crap.

Not the color (though haters of our peachy-pink might disagree), the surface. They put the first coat of paint on (no primer, by the way) and that same afternoon Todd went by and the paint was already bubbling, peeling, and showing every single rough edge where the still-adhered previous paint was firmly stuck. When I voiced my concern our contractor explained that it was just the first coat and that once 3-4 were on, none of that would be a problem.

House Photos 017

Ignore the purple-look in this picture, trick of the light or something. But it’s a great example of the insta-peel paint feature we didn’t ask for!

House Photos 009 House Photos 011

So then I sent these pictures of what we were seeing on the front of the house, to be very specific of what we saw as the problem. That’s when he replied, “oh, I wasn’t actually there, yes, we’ll make it right” and they spent the next week prepping the entire exterior, feathering out the edges of the well-adhered paint and sanding the bare clapboards, like they needed to do in the first place. And when the weather cleared (barely) enough for them to start painting again? A coat of primer was also used.

Now, some of this might have been unfortunate timing: we’d had to push back the closing so many times and then wait on the last-minute update to the contractor’s license before permits could be pulled and work could begin. I fully acknowledge that the more than 2-month delay made it necessary for our contractor to split his time between our job and whatever came up in the mean time, but I still think it’s a question I should have asked.

3. Can I get that in writing?

And by “that” I mean the warranty–not just the contractor’s guarantee of their labor but, and perhaps more importantly, the materials warranty on something like your roofing shingles. According to my contractor, he (verbally) guarantees his labor for 2 years. Okay, so for the first two years if something goes wrong I can call him and he’ll deal with it. Sounds good (and this conversation was had when I’d already had to do just that, the week after we moved in). The shingles he put on our roof, though, they come with a 20 year manufacturing defect warranty. Now, a lot can happen in 20 years. Our contractor may have picked up stakes and moved away (or worse) by the time something comes to light with the shingles. Could there be a recall down the line? How would I know?

These days when you buy electronics or appliances, there’s a little warranty card and lots of legalese in the packaging. That plus your receipt can help you out of jam should something go wrong sooner than normal usage would allow. But a roof? I didn’t purchase the materials outright so that’s not much help, and aside from the conversation we had while he was back up on my roof, I’ve got nothing to go on. As much as it pained me to contact him (dislike of confrontation and/or rocking the boat, I admit it), I did put on my big-girl pants and email him a request for something in writing. We’ll see what becomes of that.

There’s more to this story, of course (isn’t there always), and I’m almost ready to tell it. Almost. This first year of home ownership has not been the easiest. Every time we think we’re finally past the triage stage, something else comes up. We knew it was going to be a long term project and that we weren’t in a hurry, but, well…

That’s a story for another post.

Honesty is the Best {Renovation} Policy

The Gingerbread Diaries

During one of our many trips to Lowes, I remembered our Brita pitcher had been flashing “change soon” the last few pours. But I had a dilemma: did I buy the single filter or the 3-pack? I waited for Todd to catch up to where I’d wandered and asked him:

Will you have the water filter installed in one filter’s lifespan or should I get the 3?

We got the three-pack.

It wasn’t that Todd was putting off the filter decision and installation on purpose, it was more than we had so many other things going on that using the filtered pitcher for drinking water bumped the whole-house filter down the list quite a ways. Plus, I appreciated his honesty.

I think this is one of those examples of why Todd and I have never fought in the 7 years we’ve been together: we ask questions and respect the answers. I could have just picked up the single pitcher filter with the expectation of him completing the larger task in the 1-2 months it would last and been frustrated when it wasn’t, that disappointment leading to an argument. He could have assured me that he’d get it done despite knowing that he probably wouldn’t, setting up yet another opportunity for drama. No, instead he was honest about the likelihood of getting to that line item, we got what we needed, and avoided that whole sitcom-level miscommunication bit that the media conditions us to expect.

And, for the record, he installed an under-sink filter in the kitchen during the second filter’s tenure.

Which brings up another lesson we’ve learned in the last few months:

Just because it's the right thing to do, doesn't mean it's the thing to do right now!

Just because it’s the right thing to do, doesn’t mean it’s the thing to do right now!

That bit of wisdom was realized during a leak issue that I’m not ready to talk about just yet, but it applies to the water filter decision, too. Originally the plan was to install a whole-house filter for particles, etc. and then an under-sink filter in the kitchen for taste. Todd bought the whole-house filter but when the time came to install it, he realized it wasn’t quite that simple.

Because of the way the house was built and then later added onto, we have 3 different supply lines running into the house. Basically, one for each of the bathrooms and one for the kitchen that has an offshoot to the water heater. This meant that a single access point to place the filter was not feasible. It also means that when we start the room-by-room renovations (of which the kitchen and bathrooms are foremost in importance) we’re going to be doing some rerouting of the pipes.

With the recent drop in temperatures we also realized that these 3 supply lines meant that we’d need to leave a faucet in each wet room running to prevent burst pipes during the overnight freeze warnings. The right thing to do is obvious: repipe the house. But it sure as hell isn’t the thing to do right now!

So we punted. Todd bought an under-sink filter for the kitchen and got it installed a few weeks ago. Of course, we’re so used to the Brita pitcher after the past few months that we haven’t gone back to our old habit of refilling water bottles to keep in the fridge, but at least now we can drink from the kitchen tap or fill a pot without worrying about how the water will affect the flavor of the meal. I’m also happy to report that the filter does not appear to slow the flow from the faucet at all (a big concern of mine with the under-sink option) and the actual filter will only need to be changed twice a year.

Of course, the filter is sitting perched on a plastic container inverted into another, larger, plastic container to keep it level and to catch any drips (just in case) because there’s no clear space to actually mount it to the wall under the sink thanks to the aforementioned creative plumbing solutions of the previous owners.

Again. Right thing versus right for now.

Halloween House Tour

The Gingerbread Diaries

If you’ve been curious about what things look like in the Dollhouse, now, here’s your chance to take a peek!

(Direct link for the feed readers: Gingerbread Diaries 1.6: Halloween House Tour)

The upstairs still needs work–namely our bedroom and Todd’s office, and we need some better storage up on the landing/in the upstairs bath, but otherwise we’re more than just functionally unpacked in the house, we’re ready to party! And party we did with a couple dozen friends. The Dollhouse is perfect for entertaining, even in this “before” state–imagine what it’ll be like once we get it all fixed up. I joked to Todd that each room we finish will call for it’s own “unveiling” party.

I hope everyone has a Happy Halloween! We’re curious to see how many trick-or-treaters we get this evening. Hopefully enough to make a serious dent in the planter full of candy we have ready and waiting. Maybe we’ll get to meet some more of our neighbors, too!

UPDATE: I usually dress up for Halloween at work but this year I was sort of uninspired. But I didn’t want to skip it, so I figured I’d just grab the chef’s coat I use for conventions and go as a chef (and kinda kicked myself for not getting an appropriate wig sooner, because I could have gone as Red from OITNB). But then a funny thing happened. I was planning to just put my hair up in piggie-buns but teased them first so I wouldn’t look like I had giraffe nubs. Mid-tease I thought ‘heh, I sorta look like a Fraggle.’ Then my brain really kicked in and reminded me that said Fraggle was ALSO named Red!

So I present to you: Fraggle is the New Black

final1414759442442

UPDATE #2: Oh, hey, a story from last weekend’s Halloween party is over on Bye, Bye Pie today. Did you ever wonder if the Dollhouse is haunted?

 

 

Doings Around the Dollhouse

The Gingerbread Diaries

If you think we’re completely unpacked yet, you really haven’t met us, have you?

But we’re getting a lot closer, and each room we manage to clear of empty boxes and packing paper reminds me of just how much space we’ve given ourselves to stretch out in! I was watching the movie Tiny the other night (via Netflix) and thinking about how here’s this movement of people downsizing their lives into 200 square feet or less and we just moved into a house that is almost 3000 square feet. Way to go, bucking the trend, right? And while I admire their simplified lifestyles, I know me well enough to know how much I love my stuff. It doesn’t define me, but it’s awfully nice to have around!

Bye-Bye Blinds!

Bye-Bye Blinds!

One war we’ve been waging, lately, is against the window coverings in this house. Have I mentioned how much I despise mini-blinds? If not, let me be clear: I cannot stand the things! They clatter when the wind hits them, they collect dust like whoa!, are a pain to clean, they get bent out of shape/break easily and they are just plain ugly to look out. I’d almost go so far as to say I hate them, but I’m trying to reserve that word for the really bad things. Like Triple Sec.

But I digress.

It started with the guest room–that was the only room in the Dollhouse that had no window treatments whatsoever and the sun was coming in strong through the rear window, not helping the second floor keep anything close to cool. Thankfully, we had some drapes we used in our last bedroom and were able to toss those up as a stop-gap if nothing else.

We try not to remind our curtains of their shortcomings.

We try not to remind our curtains of their shortcomings.

This also pointed out to me just how freaking expensive proper drapes are going to be for this house! The curtains we hung barely covered the window itself and certainly don’t come anywhere near the floor. We have some long, tall drink of water windows in this place. But for now, at least this room isn’t acting quite like a sauna anymore.

Oh, hello Halloween decorations! (and curtains)

Oh, hello Halloween decorations! (and curtains)

Once those were in, we started to assess which rooms needed the most help as we unpacked more boxes and came across more draperies from rooms past. The library and dining room both get more than their fare share of sun, so the next two sets of panels (just as comically short on our walls) went to each, respectively, and then we found a trio that would work for the living room bay.

Our sofas are still destined for recover, but at least the lamps match the drapes. (That sounds wrong, somehow.)

Our sofas are still destined for recovering, but at least the lamps match the drapes. (That sounds wrong, somehow.)

Now, these are not necessarily indicative of the direction we’re going in each room, just a process of settling in. We’ve been using the super cheap ($0.97) basic curtain rods just to get them up there and mounting them to the wide wooden window frames (some holes were already there, bonus!) to avoid having to drill through or anchor anything in the plaster just yet. Eventually there will combinations of pull-shades and custom (by moi) draperies in each room as we decide the colors and theme as we go along.

Another big sign of progress? The shower converter for the upstairs clawfoot tub has been ordered!!!

Ordered and arrived!

Ordered and arrived!

From a quick search of clawfoot tub fixtures you’d think finding what we wanted would be a relatively simple thing. Would you believe we’ve been searching pretty much since we closed on the Dollhouse?

I’m afraid I was at least partially to blame for the delay. You see, I really wanted a handheld shower head option in addition to the fixed shower head. I’ve lived with and without them and really prefer the convenience. But since we’re dealing with a (potentially) gorgeous antique tub, I didn’t want some clunky plastic modern thing messing up the look. Todd didn’t think my request was all that out-there, but as we searched it became difficult to find a set that a) mounts to the front of the tub and not on the rim or side, b) had the right spacing for our narrow fittings, and c) wasn’t $1000 or more.

A glimpse of the beuaty withing that big ol' box! I'm in love!

A glimpse of the beuaty withing that big ol’ box! I’m in love!

Bathroom fixtures (and kitchen, for that matter) always seem incredibly expensive for how little space they take up, but the sticker shock from early online shopping (no one seems to have them in stock, even the basic ones that the local hardware stores do carry) had me rethinking my position on the handheld shower head. Was it really that important?

No. And I suggested that maybe we could get a “normal” shower converter and add a handheld option later, even if it wouldn’t be as pretty or “princess phone” style (that’s what they’re called). But enough searching really does yield results and he was able to find one that met our material requirements while being under $600. Which is a good thing, since that’s more or less what we had “budgeted” for this piece of the puzzle based on the amount of the security deposit we got back from the rental.

I’m definitely looking forward to showering upstairs in the non-cave bathroom very, very soon. It means I can move my getting ready gear (underclothes, jewelry, and basic makeup) upstairs where it belongs instead of in my office where I get dressed for work each morning, currently, and I won’t have to cart my clothes downstairs each morning.

The part for this came in, too. Let's just hope it works!

The part for this came in, too. Let’s just hope it works!

Of course, because the Universe likes to keep things in balance, the day after Todd ordered the shower fixture the washing machine stopped spinning at top speed and needs a new clutch assembly (we think). Will we be wishing we’d saved that $600 for a new washer? More will be revealed…