So the back porch, which is the future site of my master suite/private space and the future home of all the furniture that is currently making it impossible to walk through my living room, is a long, narrow space (7’x32′) made even narrower by a big freaking staircase right in the middle of it.
I’d contemplated moving the staircase to the far end, but then realized I needed floor space much more than I needed stairs to the basement. And I needed that floor in place before I could do any of the building and painting that would make that room ready to take all the furniture that was garbaging up the rest of my house. The problem was, I had no confidence I could put the floor in. Then Krissie said, “I asked Richie if he’d put the floor in over the stairs for you and he said “Yes.”
Oh. My. God.
I had no idea how much brain time I’d been spending obsessing on that damn floor until Richie took it off my hands.
Tuesday afternoon, he and Krissie pulled into my driveway, and by the time they left Thursday at noon, I had a floor. And the stubborn window frame I couldn’t get out of the wall was gone. And we’d discovered that the back porch IS insulated which was another huge, huge, HUGE relief. And Krissie and I had installed an airconditioner in my little bedroom (We Are Women, Watch Us Install Appliances). But mostly Richie had worked his ass off putting in joists and putting down plywood. That’s Krissie helping Richie demo the railing. (I helped, too, but somebody has to take the pictures.) It’s a nice railing, I’m going to try to use it elsewhere, but I was DELIGHTED to see it go.
Of course that left a big freaking hole in the center of the floor. The original plan had been to take up floor boards from the end of the porch I’m going to cover with a platform bed, and put them down where the hole was, but then I discovered that there was no underlayment. Yes, they’d nailed the floor boards directly to the joists. After I finished panicking because I’d been walking on porch floor with no structural integrity, I said, “We’ll put down plywood and I’ll paint a rug later,” and we did that. And by “we,” I mean Richie.
I’m trying to figure out how to do the rug now–future Cottage Saturday post–but the important part is that the railing is gone–see the nice hole and all the construction debris in the basement?–and the next picture there is Richie, standing on de-stabilized stairs, putting in the last joist. I told him if the stairs collapsed and he died, Krissie would never speak to me again, and I need Krissie in my life, and he told me there was no need to worry. I said, “Yeah, for you, you’ll be dead. I’ll be alive and having to deal with her.”
Shortly after that, Veronica peed on the plywood, but fortunately, Richie is a sucker for dachshunds and didn’t take it personally. And I have a lot of bleach cleanser, so all is well.
And now the floor looks like the picture below. I’ve gone out on the porch several times since Krissie and Richie left and just sat in my desk chair and looked at the floor. It makes me so incredibly happy, I can’t even begin to explain. That stupid porch is now a room. It’s going to have a big couch and a little TV at one end and a bed alcove at the other. And in between will be a big work table for sewing and collage and spreading out book notes. And lots of bookcases. My heart beats faster just thinking about it.
Of course, I have a lot of stuff to build out there and my carpentry skills are rudimentary, but I can do it. And if I get too screwed up, Richie will drive down from Vermont and bail me out because he is a God Among Men. Also he likes the dogs, so he’ll come back down to see them. Plus New Jersey pizza. Really, I’m surprised he hasn’t come back already.
That’s Krissie and Richie waving good-bye in the last picture. Come back soon!
No, really. Come back soon.