Now It's Just Funny...Decorating Diaries

I got home last night from my speech (which went very well, thank you) about 8:30 PM. There was a message from my contractor.  "The countertops should be in tomorrow. Can they come by at 10 to install them?"  Yippee! Things were coming together.

Alas, my contractor called me this morning. "I have bad news," she said. And truly, I felt sorry for her having to be the one to deliver it. We ordered a granite countertop with double sinks. Apparently, regardless of which company in our area you order the countertop from, they all use the same place down in Charlotte to cut the granite.  Turns out they cut the holes for our sinks too big.  Back to the drawing board.

My contractor said she was on their case and from her tone, I believe her. She has told them the time limit is unacceptable, as is the messed up work, and she wants them to give me the countertops for free with us having to pay only for installation.  She said she's pushing them to recut the countertops to have them ready for a Monday morning installation.

I truly did feel sorry for her.  I've been on her case to get this done, get this done, but this is an aspect simply out of her control. I can imagine her dread this morning having to call and tell me about this latest fiasco.  We've all had to place those "Um, we messed up" phone calls to already irate clients and it's never fun. So I tried to be very nice about it.  And if she can wrangle me a free countertop, I'm not going to argue one bit. 

So here's the plan: My general contractor is finishing up the crown molding trim today.  I'm planning on cleaning the bathroom on Saturday and priming on Sunday. Maybe even the first coat of red paint on Sunday. Then one more coat before the plumber arrives.  I'm calling the shower door people today so they can come out and measure for a door.  But for me, the worst is over.  The constant dirt and grime and dust is going bye-bye.  That's what's been driving me buggy above all else.

I can't wait for next winter so I can actually use my heated floor. ;) 

Proof of Procrastination: Decorating Diaries

If I needed any proof other than my incomplete bathroom to document how repairs are dragging out, now I have it. My cat Olivia is terrified of strangers.  Not only will she not come near them, she will literally not come out when people are in the house.  Close friends of mine who visit often have never seen her.  She will go without eating before she will show her face when a stranger is around. When my mom visited for a week, she would only come out a night, after we all went to bed.

Which is why I almost fell off my chair when she came strolling into the breakfast nook this evening to eat her dinner while the tile guy was still in the house.  And not only was he in the house, he was being kind of loud.  There was a saw set up outside the front door, the front door banged as he came in, and noise issued from the bathroom as he maneuvered tile around in there.  

She looked at me like, "Hey. Wass up?" and ate some food and gave herself a little bath before wandering into the next room.

WHA--????  Okay, if my CAT is used to your presence as a common occurrence, you have been in  my house waaaaay too long.  Get out.

Speaking of which, my split personality showed up again this morning.  I placed a phone call at 10:30 am to announce that it was, indeed, 10:30 AM on a Monday and why was there no one in my home working on my bathroom? My voice mail said exactly that, along with the oft-repeated announcement that I wanted this job DONE. I asked her to call me and haven't received a return phone call, although the tile guy did show up about 10 minutes after I left the message.  (Luck). And he did stay until 6pm tonight.  I don't know if that's out of the goodness of his heart or guilt at being late or my contractor called him and said, "You need to stay."  And frankly, I don't care. 

I want the job DONE.  And get out. You're freakin' my cat out. 

Decorating Diaries - Almost A Shower

Here are some pictures of where we are with the shower. It's slowly coming together.  Still waiting for the counterop to the cabinets to come in--we were told maybe this Friday but I doubt it.  I'm hoping for next Friday.  Also praying the tile will be done by next Wednesday. Which means we can get the drywall guy back in, which means I can clean, prime, and paint. Then the plumber, then the electrician (if we ever make it to a store to pick out light fixtures) and then--gasp--we're done!

Meanwhile, enjoy the photos:

Eventually, the back wall of the shower will mirror the tile pattern on the floor. 

Cut outs in the back wall for shampoo and bath products.

 

A Day for Dogs

I was on the phone this morning with Melody, who is designing the new web site for Spotlight Publishing (soon to be unveiled). I glanced at the clock and my blood pressure shot up.

"It's 10:45," I fumed. "The guy doing my tile told me he'd be here at 8.  I'm calling his supervisor as soon as we hang up."

No sooner were the words out of my mouth than call waiting beeped in.  "Melody, hang on," I said. "This is the tile guy."

I was much chastened when I returned.  The reason Tile Guy was late was that driving in (he lives an hour away), he noticed some puppies abandoned on the side of the road. He pulled over and this malnourished dog (SO CUTE though - he took a picture with his cell phone) came racing over, eager to be petted. The mama dog was more standoffish, but the two puppies were all over him. He had some dog biscuits in the car and the dogs just wolfed them down, like they hadn't eaten in days.  So he called Animal Control and was waiting for them to get there, which is why he wasn't at my house.

If there is ever a "all-is-forgiven" excuse in my book, this would be it.  "You're a good person," I told him.  "I'm so glad you stopped."  The cop who came out wanted to just lock the dogs in a pen that was by this semi-abandonded house where the dogs were in the front yard. The yard was littered with beer cans and the house was in ill-repair.  Tile Guy stood firm and pointed out the dogs were thin and starved and not being cared for, so the cop reluctantly agreed to take them to the area vet or pound.

When I finished relaying all this to Melody, I said, "That noise you hear is the sound of the Universe smacking me down."  Here I am all upset the guy is late when he's out doing this good deed that I wish more people would do.   

Two straight days involving stray or runaway dogs--wonder what the message is in that?