Rage Renovations

I think it's safe to say, I have lost my mind.  It's important for everyone to know that Rich took care of everything.  I mean EVERYTHING.  He did stuff before I knew it needed doing.  I can't relate to those jokes about procrastinating husbands, mine was a doer.  So, I can't really tell if all that has gone wrong is basic maintenance stuff or if he's haunting my house to mess with me. If you knew him, right now you're thinking, "Yeah, he's messing with you."

First things first, Rich was famous for rigging things that don't work because he got them for free/ cheap.  He had a passion for a good deal.  That being said, I could NOT figure out what was going on with our security system.  He had an app that I couldn't access, so I got a new one.  Also, non-access to apps that he used is a theme throughout this saga of life unsupervised.

This is the project where I learned the difference between a drill and an impact driver.  I thought I had 2 drills.  I prefer an impact driver, in case you're wondering.  Pro-tip: If you consider buying them, get the same brand so you can use the same battery pack for both tools.  

I know it doesn't look like much but my anxiety was at nuclear level at the time.  Rich had just passed, for the first time I was afraid to be at the house alone at night, and it involved ladders and impact drivers.  It took most of the night and a tutorial on how to change driver bits but I did it!

I've shared this project. already  I worked on it while Rich was still in the hospital.  I was murderously angry with him at the time.  I was angry he hadn't told me he wasn't feeling well.  I was angry he had refused to get medical help when he obviously had needed it for awhile.  I was angry he didn't eat vegetables.  I was angry.  Lots of yelling, cussing and screaming happened while I sanded the walls and re-painted.  Hunter relocated the giant ceiling fan to a bedroom for me but I did the rest myself.  There were like, 32 lag bolt holes in the walls.  Rich bolted every GD thing to the wall that he could and I like change.  A fundamental difference in our personalities.

The room after it was complete.

Unkind things were said in this room that I feel pretty bad about now.  But, damn it, I was mad.  I need to burn some sage or something to restore the energy in here.  One of the bookcases is filled with his books that I'll never read, so I think it's going to be a quilt shelf in the next week or two.  The bird pics are just vintage prints that I downloaded and printed at home.

If you turn around from the loft, it goes to the staircase.  I had to have my future SIL come paint the staircase because my fear of death is still a thing.  I tried to upload a video so you could see how high the ceiling is over the stairs but it didn't work out.  The right pic is the stuff I couldn't reach on my own, meeting the stuff that Marcus did.  SO CLOSE! 

During all of this, I basically evicted my husband.  Did I mention how angry I was?  Seeing pictures of him, seeing his things, it all made me want to vomit.  Honestly, I couldn't look at him or his boots or his tools without throwing up or bawling my eyes out.  The kids and I went through everything in the house, they took what was precious to them and I donated truck loads of stuff.  I removed ALL the family pictures.  ALL OF THEM (don't worry, they're being stored for now), and told myself it was because the whole house had to be painted so I could sell it.  I told you, I'd done lost my mind.

 

And, here's where I turned spiteful.  Rich loved the wood trim in the house.  There wasn't a lot of it left when we moved in.  The entryways from the dining room and kitchen, some random windows.  I've always wanted to paint it because I didn't feel like there was enough of it left to be a feature, he disagreed.  So, on his death bed, I chose to tell him I was painting the trim.  That's right folks, on his death bed... I also said other kind and beautiful things.  I was GD poetic.  But, I did throw in a jab about the trim... I'm not proud but I did what I did.  And, here's a picture of my Karma incarnate as I dropped the paint brush on my hardwood floors.  On a side note, Rich HATED to let me paint because I'm messy.  Here I am, just proving him right, once again.

Before pic, I stand behind my decision.  I think I did the house a favor.

Then I went big!  Rich didn't think that installing new insulation was a good investment.  He figured that it would take 20 years to see the return on the investment and he didn't want to bother.  Here's the thing, the house is 150 years old.  You could hear the traffic like you were standing in the street from all the rooms.  You could feel a breeze in the living room during the winter.  I feel my arguments were valid.

One night, I was like, wait a minute!  I'm making all the decisions now.  So, I contacted the guy on a Thursday night.  He started work Monday morning.  No more traffic or breezes in my living room AND I was able to support a local business.  On a side note, there was NO insulation in my outside walls.  NONE!  We also had plumbing going down those outside walls.  How we never had frozen pipes is beyond me1

So, then I got cocky.  I turned off the heat to test my new walls.  It stayed an even 68 for 2 days, thank you very much.  However, flushed from my success, I tried to connect my thermostat the to the WIFI so I could use a fancy app.  Somehow, I managed to deprogram the heater from my thermostat... why that's even an option, I have no idea.  Hunter came by last night to save me from myself.  Look, this is a process.  Mistakes will be made.

So, there you have it folks.  The good, the bad and the ugly of rage renovations.  I've decided I'm going to try to keep the house for a few years, at least.  The idea of losing Rich & the house in one go was too much to take in.  Here's a picture of the man, himself, to prove I'm healing.  No vomit occurred during the making of the blog.