Alternate title: Why Mr. J. and I may be single-handedly responsible for global warming.
If someone ever says to you, "Aw, that's just a bunch of crap!" or, "That's a load of crap!" You can say, "Actually, no. There IS a bunch of crap in Teacher Lady's garage. And it's really a ton of crap, too. You wouldn't believe it if you didn't see it."
Lest you say to yourself, "Aw, self! I've seen much bigger piles of crap," let me tell you this: The first two weeks after we had gotten the keys to the new "Love Shack", we rented TWO dumpsters. Two. That's a lot of dead bodies one could hide if one were into that sort of thing. But I digress!
They were filled almost immediately. I am learning that when you buy a 70-year-old house, you get a lot of charm. You also get a lot of stuff that doesn't really work so great. (Did I mention we have a coal cellar?!!! A COAL cellar!! I think that is just so neat. Not that I have the slightest idea what in the hell we're going to do with a coal cellar, but still. I've always wanted one.) The filled dumpsters were taken away and then we looked at each other and said, "Fuck. We still needed those."
Hence, our falling-down garage has become our dumpster du jour. See that big white thing at the bottom of the pile, in the middle? Well, sort of the middle. That, my friends is the ORIGINAL cast-iron bathtub. Yes, that's right folks. It had been glazed and re-glazed and re-glazed and as much as I love a good cast-iron bathtub, just LOOKING at it skeeved me out. Mr. J. at first said there was NO way he was removing it. Apparently, in one of his first "Handyman Special" purchases, he removed an original cast iron bathtub from the premises. I guess it was too wide to carry down the stairs so he and his father HOISTED it out the window. Does my hubby know how to rock the hizz-ouse or what!
So even though he said "No way!" - actually, he said, "Oh HAIL, no way!" - I wasn't worried. Now ladies, I feel like the mother in My Big Fat Greek Wedding. If I've learned nothing about Mr. J. in the last 4 years, it's this: His initial reaction, whenever I ask him for anything - especially anything home repair related - is this: No. The first 6 months we were married, I'd get very upset and pout and stamp around and mutter things about how he didn't really love me and blah, blah, blah. Then I realized: Usually within 24 hours, he'd return and say, "You know, I was thinking, with 'insert logical "manly" reason here', we should probably use ceramic tile, paint the bathroom lavender, insert "girly" request here." And somehow, whatever I requested makes perfect sense.
And do I know my husband, or do I know my husband because a few short weeks later, there were giant pieces of the now-dead cast-iron tub all over my kitchen floor. Remember that game, Don't Break the Ice? It was kind of like that. Mr. J. and his brother took giant metal manly smashing tools and just smashed the tub into pieces and smashed the floor underneath it and watched the whole mess fall down into the kitchen. Good times.
I would like to incorporate more photos of this whole process throughout this post. It can be done. Others have done it. However, when I try to add more pictures, even if I have my cursor in the "correct" place, Blogger still inserts the picture up at the top. Can anyone help me? Thanks!
More pictures of my worst nightmare to come!!!
Labels: Remodeling Mayhem