The greatest challenge that awaited our attention would most definitely be "the plaster room". Other than the minimalist bathroom, this is the only enclosed room on the first floor. It's a small room, about eight by ten, and it was covered in hairy plaster.
We can only conjecture as to how this came about. Pete feels it was done for artistic effect. It that was indeed the plan it had gone horribly wrong. Unlike the traditional horsehair plaster, the hair was obvious and
bristling - decidedly not a good look.
So we had a decision to make. Learn how to plaster and fix the broken pieces and replace the wall that had been damaged when the pipes had burst, pull down all the plaster and lathe and put up sheetrock, or, as our inspector suggested, put 1/4" sheetrock over the whole nightmare. We thought long and hard about it and chose what we thought was the easiest option - cover it up and save it in case we should ever want a hirsute wall.
We talked about this decision almost hypothetically because we didn't think we'd get to it for some time. We had so much else we needed to do, we didn't need the room, and the work required by the project was well beyond our pay grade. So we felt safe laughing about it.
Until much to our amazement, three months of cold winter later, we had finished our tasks throughout the rest of the first floor. Most of the kitchen was complete, the bathroom had been painted and the sagging ceiling temporarily repaired, front and back doors had been encased, lighting fixtures had been replaced by Pete (who should not have done such work), the front hall was painted a cherry chocolate, and the window on the staircase was framed, moulded and painted. It was time to take on the tiny behemoth.
Sheetrocking a room would be a challenge for us at its most basic level; throw in the facts that the walls are lumpy and of differing heights, well...
...but the first step was completed.
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| Sheetrock accomplished |
And now we had a bit more insight than when we had first begun. There was no earthly way that the ceiling moulding could be nailed. It had been problematic in the hall. There was simply nothing to nail it to.
Pete was now excited about using 'liquid nails'; something his new friends at the local hardware shop had touted, but they warned him not to use too much. So we erred on the side of abject paranoia and used too little. I don't remember how long we stood there holding the moulding up to the ceiling, but we did come close to losing heart, and we made a fine mess to boot. But we finally figured that process out.
I too had learned something about process, namely, never ever, ever paint before Pete completes all possible projects. The boy has heart but no sense of decorum whatsoever. I had painted the kitchen countless times after his various projects. This time he would have to get the window moulding up before I even thought about buying paint. Particularly since we were going to use liquid nails there as well. Oh my.
Enter the new and very necessary mitre kit. But perhaps one should practice first, non?
Nay, our Pete was on a roll.
To make a long story short, much caulk ensued.
And here is our new 'bald' room...Tada! We will soon furnish it as a guest room.
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| Particularly pleased with the merely waxed floor |
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| It has a lovely view of sunsets |
