Oh my, it was such a busy day that I hardly know where to start...well the beginning would be the best I suppose, so here it is.
I slowly wake to the sound of the alarm going off, groaning my distaste of the night officially being over and the prospect of today’s workout that looms ahead like a genuine torture session. Every part of me is demanding a skip-workout day, and while I murmur reassurances to myself that skipping the exercise won’t be all that bad, I make a mental note not to think of it again until I reach the house.
It is never smart to let my brain think on matters such as exercise too long, if it does, it will come up with all the reasons why it really isn’t necessary today, so the best way for me to deal with this dilemma is not to allow myself to think of such matters until the time is actually there.
It’s cold again–really too early for these temperatures, it’s February weather at least–so I bundle up in many layers and head down to let the dogs into the courtyard. I’m most pleased to find big brother up already, since he’s lit the heaters, allowing me to breathe easy when I enter the warm living area.
Rather than allow myself to think about it, I change into my workout outfit immediately, setting myself to the exercises before my mind is able to come up with all the reasons why I don’t feel like it, and start pounding.
30 minutes into the session, big brother decides to start taking down the gutted kitchen counter, in preparation of today’s plans of starting on the kitchen remodeling for real.
It’s not an all bad session of exercise for me by the time my regular 50 minutes comes to an end and after asking big brother to wait another ten minutes before he turns the water off, I soak up the heat from a scorching shower.
While I hang and fold the day’s laundry batch, he resumes the demolition, in the end just yanking the counter of the wall, and nodding his approval of the removal that went much faster than anticipated.
He’s still cleaning up the debris by the time I finish, and munch on some bread for breakfast and pour a big mug of coffee before deciding to be frugal by removing screws and metal corners from the old for re-use.
Sipping the welcoming boosting drink, I then get a hammer and chisel and start hacking away at the tiles that used to surround this particular counter, so that we can start putting in the new construction just as soon as the area is cleared.
By the times the sibs come down to the main house, I’m halfway through the stretch of tiles, with a bruised knuckle–Gada knocked into me just when the hammer swung down– two bleeding fingers and an electrical burn from an exposed ancient wire to show for it, and am pleased with the progress. Even when the dogs accidentally turn on the dangling faucet that is supposed to keep water from pouring onto the floor (the water main is turned on again by this time), my mood isn’t affected for a change.
Things are going well, and this always boosts my spirit. Besides, it’s just one of those little accidents that will happen when at least twenty dogs are crowding around you while you’re trying to get some work done, hah.
After a quick mopping, and the removal of tile debris, big brother and I stand side by side, taking in the blank wall that hasn’t been thus since we first built the original kitchen eleven years ago. It looks strange to see the kitchen like this that’s a fact.
Old layers of paint are visibly by the edges, bearing proof of at least a decade of re-paints, dry tile glue makes the surface uneven, and electrical wires dangle from various places as we nod at each other and start assembling the foundation of the new counter.
It takes little time, really, what with all the preparations already made during the course of the past few months, and by then the sibs have had their breakfast and are willing to offer a helping hand with the more heavy lifting of the drawer casings.
While big brother sets himself to the task of drilling holes into the floor for a proper attachment, little brother and I move back and forth, getting the drawers and casings into the house and piling them together.
Next come the settings, small legs that need to attached to the backs of the casings and after we do this, little brother and I start arranging the first two casings on either side of big brother, who’s up to his elbows in arranging the plumbing.
It takes some time and effort to get it all set appropriately upon the base, but by the time dusk settles, we are pleased to see something resembling a kitchen counter.
Measuring, rearranging and fastening the cases takes quite some time, frequent checks making all the pieces we assembled in the past slowly fit together.
With little sister handling the B&D sanding machine, to remove any uneven surfaces, she and my other sister multitask by sanding several tiny spice drawers as well, so older sister can paint them in the deep lazuli blue that we picked as one of the base colors for the kitchen.
Music plays noisily on the radio, keeping us and the dogs from getting distracted by outside sounds that might have send the pack howling.
One side of the huge isle we intend to build is done, when it’s time for dinner and little sister cleans herself up to fire up the old stove, still fixed within the gutted part of the kitchen to allow for meals while we’re working on the new.
What with the kitchen being in complete disarray we decide to go for simple and filling with fries aplenty for each and everyone, along with some chicken nuggets for the omnivores among us.
No one bothers to sit down during the meal, every family member standing where we are–plates in hand–wolfing the food down hungrily before getting back to work.
By the time the second part of the counter is up and solid, I start to regret this morning’s workout in full. Muscles ache and feet are literally whining as we saw, fit and readjust until the first top layer can be put down on top of the cases.
Several trips into the courtyard storage follow, while little brother, younger sister and I carry in the old boards that I’d saved up on in the years past, for just this occasion.
The first layer is a jumble of puzzle pieces forming a solid outline of where the counter is going to be.
I’ve just finished sawing another board to the right size when the dizzy spell hits me. The room spins like mad, just when I get up from having twisted my way into one of the casings, and I make a mad grab for the now solid counter and flop my butt down on the floor, lest I fall flat on my face…or in this case, right on top of Kolossus (a female shepherd) who’s snoozing at my feet.
With the sibs leaning over the casing from where they’re helping in the center of the isle, looking at me worriedly, I chuckle half-heartedly and try to catch my breath when I realize the spinning stops the instant I sit down.
Chaos, of course, sees my ground-level position as an excellent opportunity to come for a visit and twines his way over my stretched-out legs for a proper lick right in the center of my face.
I drag my sleeve over area, and push him aside after a pat before I scramble carefully to my feet. Giving the frowning sibs a lopsided grin, I shrug, saying something like, “Okay, that was weird,” while the youngest pushes a soda in my hand and tells me to eat an apple before I pass out. Guess the fries weren’t enough sustenance after all. Hah.
I am banned from the circle saw for a while, and I don’t particularly mind as I continue fastening the puzzle pieces to the tops of the casings.
By that time we finally finish the whole enough for big brother and little sister to head on out to the carport where the huge slates of “rustico-style” cover counters await.
They set the two counters against the stairs, right beside the basic construction, and then it starts to dawn on us that the measurements we got when we bought the counters were slightly off mark. We were led to believe that they were 90 cm in width, and yet by the time we lay them over the base, it becomes painfully clear that we’re missing a good 20 cm.
Banging my head against a wall for a bit is tempting, before we start to brainstorm about our options. It doesn’t take us long to conclude that we won’t need to disassemble our hard work after all–much to our relief–and can easily adjust the design enough to correct the slight error.
Since it had been the plan in the first place that in the center of the 180 cm wide top an elevated area was to be built, we decide to just broaden it a little and thus remove the lapse.
With a sigh of unified relief we get back to work, younger sister getting out the paint to slab blue onto the puzzle edge for the appearance of a whole.
We all freeze when suddenly the light flickers, making me scowl by the time it goes on again, and then instantly switches off entirely–leaving us all in a pitch black.
Groans of disbelief echo through the house: What are the chances of the electricity going off on a windless and rainless night such as this, just while we need to use power tools to get out job done? Very slim, actually.
We joke about it, lighting oil lamps and candles as we discuss the use of the solar panel batteries to finish up at least the basics before giving up for the day.
Though the problem appears to be with the power company–little sister heads to the window to see if the neighbors still have electricity–we suggest to big brother that he goes to check the fuses, just in case we had another short, like the last time.
Little sister, now at the window, calls out that she doesn’t see a light below either, just when big brother reaches the pantry door–and the lights go back on. There’s some mild cheering, what with everyone getting tired since the hour of ten has passed.
Still, we resume work with considerable vigor, determined to get everything done quick, in case the power goes off again.
Little brother crawls into the narrow passage underneath, while the sisters and I start laying out the top the way it is going to stay, calling out instructions as to where and how he has to drill and screw into the wooden boards for proper fastening.
The water main is shut down then, so big brother can connect the new tubes in preparation of the new faucet.
That done, little brother comes crawling out, and big brother gets the figure saw to open up a square for the small sink–later the actual dish-wash sink will be added, but for now only the small sink will have to do–while the sibs and I continue to fasten the main counter in all the appropriate places.
By then the sink can be fitted and I drill holes into the sides of the metal, so it will stay in place with little sister holding it still. I don’t know what is up today, but apparently I’m klutzy again when suddenly the power drill snaps, skids off the metal and heads straight for my leg.
I am quite lucky when my jeans twist around the sharp point right before the drill stops spinning, rather than allowing the broken piece of metal to jab through. I guess losing a rough 50 pounds since I bought the pants three years ago does have its advantages, since if the fabric had been any tighter I might have done some damage.
A quick search for a new metal drill ensues before the holes are finished and little brother crawls under the counter once more in an attempt to fasten the sink underneath. It’s supposed to hang suspended between the wood edges of the counter. After several tries, and his grouching remark about not being skilled enough with such tasks, I tell him that the only way to get skilled is to actually do it before I wave him to get out of there, so I can examine our options.
In the end I get down on the floor, shuffling my way into the narrow space on my back, while my dogs come running in hopes of some attention. While the sisters try to keep them at bay, I lever myself up partway–frequent workouts are definitely a plus there, since my abdominal muscles don’t even twinge at the raise, twist I need to apply, hah–and with some effort finally manage to get the screws in place.
Above my head, I hear Knight II pounding past several times, the sibs joking that he can’t find me…until he does and pushes his snout right into my face while I lay there unable to protect myself. Big lug, I’m out of sight five minutes and he thinks I’m gone for good.
I give him an absent rub on his huge head; give the last screw a final twist and laboriously lever myself out from under the counter to examine the end result.
It won’t keep much weight yet, but it’ll stay in place at least, I’m pleased to see.
Little brother hands me a 1 by 2, which I need to saw into the proper shape for the support, while big brother fusses over the faucet that will need to be set and attached if we want to have water during the night.
He needs a piece of Oak wood as a pedestal for the faucet, so slapping the 1 by 2 into his hand with a wave at where it’s supposed to be fastened, little brother and I carry the heavy piece of Oak wood–one of the final pieces of a huge solid oak table that we built some odd seventeen years ago–to the kitchen table and saw off the required strip necessary as a pedestal for the new tap.
I like the smell of real wood for a change, even if it soon smells a little scorched under the ministrations of the electric saw, and hand the piece to little sister who then proceeds to sand it down for use.
While big brother is fussing with the faucet, we get on with busywork, such as cleaning a bit off the mess, and then getting out the silicone glue for proper, water-proof, attachment.
Working on just the faucet with four people, really isn’t all that expedient, but by then each and every one of us is feeling the strain of ten hours of intense work.
Little sister is occasionally complaining about her hurting feet, perfectly, and colorfully putting my own feelings into words; while little brother and other sister are showing signs of wear as well.
At last big brother is ready to start attaching wood and faucet to the counter, and after spraying a liberal amount of the silicone gooey between steel and wood, younger sister and I lean over the broad counter to keep it in place. Underneath, in the narrow passage between drawer cases, big brother is now stretched out, using all the force he can muster to drive home the four thick screws that are to keep the faucet and its pedestal in place.
After four tries we all step back and blink when we realize that we’re done…almost at least, and hold out breaths in anticipation when the water main is turned back on to see if there are any leaks showing.
Disappointment and exhaustion mingle together well, when right there at the connecting pieces of the variety of tubes shows steady leakages, making us hurry to shut the water down again.
I assure the younger sibs that this is always the case with new plumbing being installed, as we wait impatiently for big brother to crawl back inside to reattach the connections until he finally thinks the leakage will be over.
It is, to our infinite relief, when after applying some more silicone all around the sink, cleanup can start.
One thirty in the morning has arrived when I finally make my way to my cabin, my feet dragging, and every single muscle in my body complaining about twelve hours straight of intense activity by the time I enter a decidedly cold building and hurry to switch on the heater.
6 degrees Celsius, a record for us this time of year, and with hardly any energy left, I feed my dogs, curse at the non-responsive CD player, and drop down on my bed with ITunes on, instead.
A long day, but the new counter is there, and it is beautiful. It will need quite a bit of work yet, but already the end result is a clear image in my mind.
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