Home Improvement Hell – Surviving the Nightmare of Renovation

If you have ever lived through home construction or renovation, then you know what a nightmare it can be. I remember watching a comedy movie many years ago, called “The Money Pit.” It was about a house that a young, energetic couple bought with a plan to renovate. It starred Tom Hanks and Shelley Long. They bought the house for a ridiculously low amount (though unfortunately, with borrowed money) with the idea of it being a fixer upper. They certainly got more than they bargained for! Their dream house soon turned into a real life nightmare. There were electrical mishaps, structural cave-ins, and plumbing fiascos galore. I laughed until I cried.

In real life, however, things are not so funny. I can relate all too well to the movie, and the house. But in my case, the tale would be considered a tragedy, instead of a comedy. From the time we originally built our house, over 25 years ago, until this day, there has been one calamity after another. It might have something to do with the people my husband hires to do the work. He is a busy attorney, who often likes to hire his clients to do our maintenance jobs. I constantly have to remind him that I draw the line at axe murderers! (This may be a slight exaggeration, but at any given time, I am likely to see various criminals doing our handy work.) This has made me a fugitive in my own house, fearing to answer the doorbell. I’ve had drunks replacing my roof, drug addicts doing our lawn maintenance, and Lord knows who else doing home repairs! If you only knew…

If they are not criminals, then most probably, they are people that owe him money, and are working out their debt in trade. This has led to some interesting problems, particularly most recently. After 25 years of little or no preventative maintenance to our home, we finally decided to do renovations. We started on the outside, by replacing our cedar with hardy plank (an excellent type of siding). This time we had one supposedly “real” carpenter doing work, accompanied by a man down the street, who lives in a rental house we own (yes, paying off his debt.) One day recently, as they pounded on the outer walls, I found myself chasing them throughout the house, trying to catch pictures, shelves and clocks that were rapidly falling. Another day, as I was typing at my computer, they actually tore right through the wall in my office, leaving a rather sizable hole. (What next, I thought.)

After a particularly long day of hammering and sawing, I noticed that my daughter’s closet floor was wet. After further examination, we found that the men had knocked a hole in the water heater! (Another major purchase we had to make, as a result of renovations. But don’t forget, we are saving money by using these guys.) Wink! Wink!

After the siding was finally attached, it was painted a lovely shade of blue, which had taken quite some time to agree on. I began to think that perhaps things were improving. I had been so embarrassed about the house, both inside and out, for so long, that I had almost lost hope. I kept telling myself that we would do the outside first, and then step by step, the inside would also be addressed. In preparation for this, I cleaned every room from top to bottom, and was quite proud with what I had accomplished. My daughter moved out after graduation, and I redecorated her room with a Victorian theme. The family room furniture was given new slipcovers, and a guest bedroom was also redecorated. Our next big project was to be the downstairs bathroom renovation. (But that would have to wait until the upper and lower patio decks in the back of our house were demolished, due to rotting wood, structural damage, and a problem with leaks. Then we were going to build new ones.)

Day after day, I had to endure the banging, hammering, and pounding sounds of demolition. But today, it was particularly frightening. I awoke to even stranger sounds than I had previously heard. It actually sounded as though the house was collapsing. I tried to get some housework done, and shook off the uneasy feeling I had. Finally, the noise died down for the day, and I called and asked my husband to bring home some fast food for dinner, as I had not felt like cooking. He came upstairs and left the bag on the counter, and then went back down to the bedroom to change his clothes. Suddenly I heard a strong exclamation, which is as close as he gets to real emotion. I immediately went running to find out what was wrong. I still have trouble saying this, but our entire downstairs was flooded! Our family room, a bedroom, the foyer, and the hallway squished ominously beneath our feet. Now let me add, that we have been through at least five hurricanes recently, in this part of Northwest Florida, and not one of them had caused this kind of damage.

It only took a moment to realize that something horrible had happened during the demolition of the deck earlier in the day. It seems that they had hit a main water pipe from a shower on the porch, and all of the water was now flowing into our house rapidly. We located the flow, and redirected it, and then turned the water off completely. My husband infomed me that the workers had called his office, a short while before he got off work, to tell him that there was a tiny leak (almost a mist) as a result of their efforts today, but they felt it was nothing to really worry about. Ha! (Any larger, and we would be swimming in it.) The bottom floor is devastated, and I am deeply distressed and in disbelief. (Okay…that’s the PG-13 version.) My water is turned off, and I can’t flush my toilet. I can’t take a bath or wash my hair, or my hands, or my dishes.

For the time being, my husband and I are not speaking. It is now 3:00 o’clock in the morning, and I can hear the rumblings of a machine that is supposed to suck water out of the carpet. I am told that we will need to remove the old padding, install new padding, and later pick out new carpeting. For awhile, our resulting decorating look will be “Early Concrete.” The plumber will be arriving at 8:30 a.m. to fix the broken pipe. (I think I feel a migraine coming on.)

The house may survive, but I’m not at all sure that the marriage will. Can anyone relate?

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