Where the Magic happens...

No. We didn't die. Our house wasn't blown away in some freak storm. Rather, we got lazy and haven't updated the blog. Good news is, you haven't missed much. Like everyone, the economy hit which has tightened our belts and slowed process, but we're back baby. We're working on new projects and cutting costs by cutting corners and doing shoddy work! I jest. We're just pacing ourselves. Note to readers: one thing that's changed since last we chatted, Kenny and I got married. There was a wedding, a cake and a gigantic squirrel! (not pictured)

Okay, so today we're gonna talk about that special place where aaaaall the magic happens. Awwwww yeah. That's right kids. It's our master bedroom. The master of all bedrooms. Bow, chicka wow wow. Yeah. Okay, I'm done with the sexual innuendos. So we're nearing completion of this room, but before I show you where we're at, I'd like to show you where it started. Ya see, we're pretty sure that this space used to be a make-shift geriatric dungeon. There was a hookup in the corner of the room up high where a tv was mounted, a button for the ambulance, and that telltale musty smell of moth balls, mildew and ribbon candy. It could only be one thing. Yep. Old people. Now I know what you're thinkin'. Leslie--how can any magic, softly serenaded by my man Barry White singing "Can't Get Enough of Your Love Baby?" possibly occur in pad doused with grandma-scented febreze? C'mon guys. Trust me. We're gettin it there.

It didn't come easy though. In fact, the first time we tried to do any minor updating in there was the first time we realized what a major job we had ahead of us. Note to reader: there are NO QUICK JOBS in a hundred-year-old home. NONE. Still wanna take on your own hundred year project. As always, I'd like to offer you some simple step-by-step instructions:

Phase I - For most intensive bed-rockin adventures above, ensure highest level of foundation structural integrity below.

Step 1: Try to clean out a closet, have your foot drop through the floor (which you later find out was constructed of rotten joists and old carpet), and end up having to rip out all the plaster and replace the flooring.

Step 2: You don't think that floor disintegrated on its own do ya? Now you have to replace some joists under your house in a 14" high crawl space. Can't fit under there? No worries, send your smaller, cuter significant other in there to build new brick peers and jack up a 6 x 8 beam to support your sagging floor. What's really fun is, right when s/he's about to lose her sh*t b/c of a sudden case of claustrophobia, refuse to help her crawl completely out until AFTER taking a picture of her. Don't worry. I'm sure she'll see the humor of it all when you explain to her that she looked a lot like a witch with a house on top of her while she desperately tried to claw her way out from the depths of your home. Yeah. She'll really think it's freakin' hilarious. Call her the "Wicked Witch of Westview".




Now that you have the floor steady and ready to support some serious live load (awww yeah), you're ready to hit the inside. What comes next? Stay tuned...

An additional note: We had the foundation repair quoted to us by a various professionals and if memory serves, they varied wildly from $4K-$20K for a 15' stretch of repointing/relaying of brick. That did not include the extra piers we chose to lay underneath. While you may not be comfortable doing it yourself, definitely do your research and go on a SOLID recommendation. It seems to me that there are a lot of people out there that don't know what they're doing (ridiculously lowball offers) and a lot of guys out there who would love to take advantage of any job with the word "foundation" in it (ridiculously high ball offers). On the bright side, masonry underneath your house doesn't have to be pretty...just sound. And now I can say I know how to lay brick.