We literally have just 30 pieces of trim and ten crowns to put into place. Sound like a lot? Well, we started with over 50 pieces of trim… and hardwood floors to lay, door openings to raise, seven doors to replace plus all of the door trim. And all of that was after finishing the bathroom which included painting the walls, installing a new tile floor, sink and toilet, sealing said floor, creating new shelves in the bathroom and installing new doors and all of the trim in there. In the end, we are just truly inches from being done with renovations. We estimate two more weekends – I’ll plan on three – and this little family is done.
It is so close, we can both now taste it. The taste itself? Well, it’s a mixture of “ahhh” and “damn, I’m over it.”
The “ahh” is exactly what you think: it looks fabulous and its our dream come to life. The “damn, I’m over it”? Well, that’s what you think, too. We just want it done. Even me – the “glass is at least half full” girl – doesn’t want to keep thinking of life post renovations. It’s just too exhausting to go back to home improvement after.
Instead, I want to reflect – both on what went well and what we learned. First and foremost, project management skills are a must. With a project this big – we literally refinished our entire upstairs including laying ¾-inch hardwood maple floors, which is a complex thing to do. But, by project managing this thing and breaking everything into small logical steps, we were able to do it and not only does it look professional, it easily saved us $20,000-$25,000. My mantra of relentless incrementalism (borrowed from a friend) worked well here. That allowed us to make and measure progress while also getting the sense of satisfaction of completing part of the project.
The next thing that worked well, honestly, was my husband’s patience. While his dedication to perfection drives me nuts sometimes, it was that drive that resulted in this finished project. If we had gone any faster, cut any corners or compromised as I would have done, I don’t think we would be as satisfied. This looks fabulous and easily as good as any contractor would have done. That was all him and I owe him that credit.
The final thing we did well? We worked together. This is something we do quite well, honestly. We both establish our roles and then work in support of the other. For example, I’m the putty-and-paint expert. I don’t want anyone else doing that. I have a system, it’s effective and it gets good results. Conversely, Darryl was the engineer on our floor laying project, particularly on the end rows. He knew exactly what lengths to cut, how to rip the boards (literally on a job-site table saw) and where to place the screws so that they wouldn’t show once the trim was installed. Each workday, we would have a family team meeting, decide what we needed to do that day and then both go about getting it done. It worked well because we worked well.
So, what didn’t work so well? First, our project timeline. We always grossly underestimate how long something is going to take – even when we think we are accommodating for it. For example, there isn’t one square wall in this house, which is not atypical given house settling. We would estimate that starter rows would take 2-3 hours. Then, an anomaly would crop up. It wasn’t just the starter row. We had to cut the board at an angle – which we knew – but it would eliminate the tongue or the groove. We sometimes had to re-establish that. Or, we had to create a double-tongue on part of the board so we could lay floors in an opposite direction. Even when we planned and thought we had carefully considered what hiccups could arise, we would get surprised often enough that the timeline got out of whack.
Second? That would be the amount of household disruption. Each time we did a push, I strove for normalcy in our living spaces. That wasn’t often possible. Even now at this last push, there are baseboards sitting in our dining room. Why? Well, the dining room has the easy access to the front door where the chop saw sits. No sense moving them anywhere else. I have to say, this final project has been better than most – we spent three months last year with my dining room table laying on its side in the fireplace room so we could lay out floor boards. Still? Well, it’s a disruption. I’ve done well making sure we always still have a healthy dinner and good food for breakfasts and lunches but it’s safe to say that home suffered when we did parts of the project.
Third? Our social life suffered. When you spend your Friday nights doing “Home Depot dates” and your Saturdays and Sundays working on the house, you end up leaving little room for a social life. Case in point: we hadn’t been to the movies since the pandemic before we went to see “A Complete Unknown,” this week. Yep. It was THAT bad. Now, we need to slowly re-integrate with the rest of society. That means re-establishing friendships, rediscovering what we like to do and re-prioritizing free time.
Now that it’s nearly over, I can look back and wonder if it was all worth it. It was a LOT of money, time, sweat and emotion sunk into this house. We did a complete gut job. Thankfully, it was all out of cash and while that extended the timeframe, we owe nothing for this house. It is honestly stunning. We built this home the way we would like to live in it. From my new soapstone countertops in the kitchen to the exposed post-and-beams which open up the entire downstairs to the incredible, locally-sourced hardwood maple floors. The downstairs is exactly what we wanted. Further, by working with an architect, we carefully thought through certain choices that really paid off in the end. To this day, I wouldn’t change a thing about my kitchen. It is incredibly functional just as it is. Upstairs, I’m amazed. The guest bathroom went from something to be slightly embarrassed about to something I’m proud of. And that closet! Goodness, I didn’t know how much a truly large, accessible linen closet would mean to me. It is as fabulous as I thought it would be. I also love the allergy/asthma-free hardwood floors upstairs, particularly in our bedroom. I even love the paint colors that I stressed over so much.
My verdict? It was worth it to get what we wanted. It was always going to be work and for two people who work from home, it is simply not practical to have a contractor in your home during the workday. If we were going to get what we wanted, we had to do it and it had to be done on weekends.
In the end, however, I somewhat worry that the social isolation wasn’t truly worth it. Neither of us is the life of the party and both find it a bit difficult to put ourselves out there. I’m probably more socially outgoing than Darryl is and I can be painfully awkward. So, rebuilding friendships is not going to be easy. This alone could make the project less worth doing than it was. Further, this is a large house – likely too large for two people – so we may at some point find that it’s more than we want to take care of as we age.
Finally, the money. We likely have about $100,000 more into this house than we could sell it for. Again, we owe nothing – not a mortgage in sight – but we did spend a considerable amount of money. While I would argue that some of that money was generally routine maintenance, there are other costs that just don’t pay you back. It likely cost us $5,000 to put new posts in the basement, but that needed to be done. The break-your-neck stairwells had been grandfathered in but I’m so much happier with our new ones. And we spent a lot on geothermal and solar panels that will pay us back in terms of $40 a month utility bills and not necessarily in the purchase price. (Yes, we pay a total utility bill of $40/month. That’s for heating, cooling and electricity.) So, it was more money than the house is worth but just possibly money well-spent for us.
Staring down the last three weekends of work, there is a strong possibility that by the time February rolls around, this house will be finished. All of the tools can go away to the basement. Closets can be used for their proper function. All of the construction materials and leftover dregs can be donated, sold or taken to recycling. We can finally eliminate the noise and simply live in our house. Weekends in February will dawn without a project list; Friday nights will not involve a visit to Home Depot. Our savings account can grow unfettered by random house purchases. The house can likely stay cleaner without renovation dust and even our pets – who absolutely abhor the nail gun even though we hide the compressor in a room to minimize the noise – will be happier.
The question remains, however. Will it all have been worth it? I believe yes, but it’s too soon to tell. Instead, I’ll reevaluate that question in July. I hope the answer will still be yes.
The Yuppie Homesteader 