But, to an extent, the chaos is a necessary reality.
So with everything on our list to get completed (cough, cough: the entire ground floor) it may seem silly that the backyard was one of our biggest woes, but it was. From day one, actually.
Since we started with a sprint we quickly ran out of spots to store all of the demo materials. I listed the wood floors, a door, a toilet and additional wood scraps on Craigslist. Someone from Craigslist also came to salvage metal and the old appliances. But we STILL had to call 1-800-JUNK by the second week we were in the house. And at $300 a visit that was the only call we could make even if it was a huge help. So, as you can see from the above, the backyard became our dump.
Until we couldn't take it any more.
Then Pete had the great idea to load up my car and visit a dump out near where his mom lives. So on Saturday we piled old lathe, cement board from the kitchen, broken tiles, metal pipes and bags of garbage into my Element and drove 45 minutes into the country.
As I awkwardly hunched over the steps staring at the gleaming nails inches from my face a million thoughts raced through my mind, like:
- Who would order the appliances? I spent weeks price checking and selecting models.
- Did I write that angry email to the cabinet people yet? I didn't want to die before they felt my wrath.
- Would I ever figure out if the garbage people on Sunday were the same as on Wednesday? It was a mystery why they never picked up all the garbage one day but would the other.
- After my passing would Pete be horrified with all the random boxes that arrive from Ebay? And: did I win that vintage brass floor lamp or had I just imagined it?
- And finally, as I bled out on the stairs, would Pete remember to wipe Ernie's paws before he ran inside? We just sanded the kitchen floors and it was incredibly porous and the dog's feet were very muddy.
And that was the story of how we spent our Saturday.