Husbandly One and I are in a state of perpetual renovation. He's your typical do-it-yourselfer, no task is too big or too complicated for someone who puts his mind to it! Hmmm. Whatever, as long as he doesn't get it in to his head that he is somehow qualified to change our windows, I let him do his thing. (Windows are just waaaaaaaaaay too important to do yourself, in my opinion.)
He does a good job, though....the occasional mismatched miter be damned. But the longer I live through this renovation (read: adventure of discovery), the more I want to ask him if his home inspector ever actually entered the house, or just slowed his car down on the way by. Because Husbandly One is an intelligent man, and I just can't believe he would have bought this house if someone had pointed out the delightful little things we keep finding.
Husbandly One is starting to remodel our bathroom downstairs, and tonight he realized that all of the tile (floor, shower enclosure, shower floor) was laid directly on to plywood, and I'm done speaking now. Yeah, but what about the studding, the drywall, the shower pan, Irma? No no, I said I'm done speaking now.
He took one whack at the tile with the crowbar and almost removed his own foot when it continued through the old plywood. Faaaack. And of course the plywood is now of a questionable colour. I told him to stop IMMEDIATELY..... I hve seen one too many episodes of Extreme Makeover Home Edition where the family was poisoned by mold. I mean, neither of us saw mold, but 1) ewwwwww and 2) I am SO glad he is going to fix this, and 3) get a mask before you go any further, ok???