After 30 years in the same house, Alf and I finally decided to take the plunge.
We’re remodeling our kitchen.
We’ve heard horror stories from many people, but what are you going to do? Believe everything you hear?
We began by asking several friends who they recommended and we called them. One was too busy. Another didn’t want the job because we were too far away. A third came by, looked at the kitchen, grunted and left.
Alf and I wondered if it was us.
Were we wearing a sign that said, “Perfectionists” across our chests?
Not really. There’s a remodeling boom going on in our neighborhood and all the good contractors are tied up.
So we asked our real estate agent, the one we would use if we were to sell, who she liked and she immediately came back with a name.
We called him and John came over.
“Piece of cake, I can have this done in a week,” he said.
Oh wow, how wonderful. Alf and I sighed with relief.
John gave us a contract and we noticed it said two months from start to completion.
We asked him why. “Oh that’s just a standard contract. In your case, a week,” he repeated.
Relieved we signed the paper.
A day later John showed up in his truck, a trailer and two workers, Fernando and Gustavo. By the end of the morning, Fernando and Gustavo had demolished the kitchen, thrown the debris in the trailer, and were dispatched to the dump.
Alf and I now stood looking at each other in a large, empty, dusty room. The only thing still alive was the refrigerator.
The next day John went to the cabinet maker to order the cabinets. Since they were pre-fab and in stock, he expected to come back to our house with them.
There was a three week wait list for assembly.
“Everybody’s updating their kitchens,” was the cabinet maker’s response.
So now Alf and I have three weeks of waiting with a ticking refrigerator in a gutted kitchen. And that’s just week #1.
Calvin says, “It’s not all bad, at least you can eat ice cream.”
3 thoughts on “It’s Not All Bad”
All the best with that! My dad was a contractor. He did two remodels on our house while I was growing up. Actually, he died of a heart attack in the middle of the second one, but I’m sure that was just a coincidence! 😉
Oh no! How horrible.
It was awful at the time, I don’t mean to sound flippant. But it was a l-o-o-o-o-o-n-g time ago. I was 17. And the way I look at it now, if he had feet of clay, I was too young to have ever seen them!